


Revive

by Mobi_On_A_Mission



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, But it's not just porn I swear, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Headcanon, It just starts early because of plot reasons, Liberal use of swearing, Pregnancy, Season/Series 05, Season/Series 06, Slow Burn Communication, Smut, Space Sisters - Freeform, Technically It's Possible, Through Season/Series 6, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22205728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mobi_On_A_Mission/pseuds/Mobi_On_A_Mission
Summary: Coming back to Earth was hard enough. The fact that Emori was pregnant with her ex's baby just made everything more complicated.(In which everything is the same except Emori is pregnant. Starts on the Ring and goes from there)Fic now complete!
Relationships: Background Relationships: Becho Bellarke Marper Zaven, Echo & Emori (the 100), Emori & Bellamy Blake, Emori & Harper McIntyre, Emori & Madi (The 100), Emori & Raven Reyes, Emori/John Murphy (The 100), John Murphy & Raven Reyes, Space Sisters
Comments: 149
Kudos: 55





	1. Crossing the Rubicon

He was buried beneath a pile of ancient blankets, back to the corner of the hallway, two photographs in one hand and a lighter in the other. That was how Raven found him, when she came with his morning meal in hand.

“God, you look like shit,” she said, pulling him out of his stupor.

Murphy flinched. “Since when did you walk so quietly? I didn’t hear you coming.” He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, pushing the photographs and lighter in with them. He hoped Raven hadn’t seen what he was holding. That was a conversation he didn’t want to have.

If she saw what he hid, she gave no indication of it. “It’s not exactly hard to sneak up on someone who is completely disconnected from reality.” She gave him a pointed look. “Although this whole side of the ring is empty _and_ I have a bum leg. So really I’m just that good.” Raven gave a playful flick of her neck, making her high ponytail swoosh around behind her. She leaned against the wall, propping her left leg in front of her and slowly sinking down until she was seated next to him. “Here,” she said, offering him a bowl of algae soup. “Monty came up with a new recipe. This one’s almost edible.”

“Doubtful.” Murphy’s lips quirked into a half smile and he lifted his hands from his pockets to take the bowl from her. He brought the soup to his lips and took an experimental sip. He screwed up his face, gagging a little at the offending goop. “Now _that_ ,” he said, “is absolutely terrible. An assault to good taste everywhere.”

Raven chuckled. “That’s what you say about every recipe. Maybe you’re just a picky eater.”

“When it comes to algae, you’re damn right I’m picky. No shame in common sense.”

She ignored him, lifting a hand to run her fingers through his hair and tsk lightly. “You’ve let it get so long since you left. Let me cut it?”

Murphy nodded. “Whatever the hell you want, Rey.”

“Perfect. Let me go get my scissors.” She stood up. “Don’t go anywhere. And finish your soup before I get back, okay? It doesn’t taste any better if you drink it slowly.”

Raven bounded off, a little more excited than was really warranted by the prospect of a haircut. Murphy turned his attention back to the bowl of algae soup, groaning internally as he gulped it down. He set the empty bowl on the floor and slid it away from him.

Raven returned several minutes later, and this time he could hear the telltale uneven patter of her heels on the floor. She came with a low stool in hand and a pair of scissors sticking out of her leg brace.

She sat on the stool and motioned for him to sit on the floor in front of her, at mercy to her weird ass fixation on the length of his hair.

“The usual?” she asked.

“Like I said, Rey. Whatever the hell you want.”

Murphy could sense the grin that spread across her face, even from his position in front of her.

“Well in that case, I’m gonna try something different this time. You need a breakup haircut. You’re a single man now, you need a new look to match.”

“It’s been almost six months,” he said, playing with the fabric of his jacket. “Pretty sure the time for a ‘breakup haircut’ is long past by now. But sure, do your worst.”

“You have too much faith in me, Murphy.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m a complete sap. Now snip snip, I haven’t got all day.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to keep you away from all your work. I know how busy you’ve been lately.” Sarcasm dripped off her voice. Murphy must have been off of his game, since he didn’t have a comeback to that.

She got to work, cutting the length off of his hair. When she was shaping it, Raven kept on making him reposition his body so that she could see and cut from different angles. It was annoying as fuck, but he only complained a little bit. _Kudos for the bare minimum._ She brought the sides of his hair in short enough she had to pull out a knife to shear it. Murphy hadn’t worn his hair so short since before his dad died, back when he was a kid. It felt weird. At least Raven left a little length on the top, a comfort blanket he never realized he had.

“There,” she finally said. “You’re officially pretty again.”

“Aw, have you gone soft on me?” He quirked his lip. “You think I’m pretty.”

“My bad. I should have said you look sufficiently decent. Slightly less repugnant than before. Socially acceptable for a society with a whole whopping _one member_.”

“Nah, you think I’m pretty.” Murphy smirked. “You can’t take it back now.”

“What I think you are is a cockroach.”

“But a pretty one!”

She tossed his head forward in playful spite, grabbed her stool and bowl, and went back to her friends without a goodbye.

* * *

She was hunched over a keyboard, bottom lip caught between her teeth, headphones covering her ears and the soft blue glow of a computer monitor covering her face. That was how Raven found her, when she came back from her visit to John’s side of the Ring.

“What are you working on?” Raven asked.

Emori didn’t look up from the monitor. “The comms problem. If I can figure out what’s broken, I know we’ll be able to fix it.”

“The comms are a lost cause. Radiation levels are too high, we can’t get past that. Or we would have dealt with it years ago.”

Emori pulled her eyes from the monitor to settle on Raven. “We have to let Octavia know about Eden. God knows if they’ll find it themselves.”

Raven rolled her eyes. “ _Or_ we could focus on our own problems and trust they found their way.”

“You’re right. They’re lucky down there. At least they don’t have to deal with John,” Emori said. _Or the fuel problem_ , she thought, but didn’t dare say. She didn’t want to ignite Raven’s short fuse, thank you very much.

Raven settled in to work at the monitor station next to her, pulling rocket schematics up onto the screen. They worked at the monitoring station all day, until Monty’s bright “Soup’s on!” rang out through the Ring. Emori tore her eyes from the screen, blinking in confusion at how much of the day had passed. She always lost track of time when she got to work a meaty technical problem.

Emori slid into her usual seat at the table, only tangentially aware of the empty space beside her. She drank the algae soup as quickly as possible, not letting it sit on her taste buds. Bellamy, Harper, and Echo used the same method, grimacing slightly at the foul taste while feigning pleasure for Monty’s sake.

Raven didn’t have the same inhibitions to sharing how she felt about the soup. She groaned and complained about how gross it was. She was always too blunt for her own good, and that earned her latrine duty too many times to count in the early days. Now, though, they knew better than to mess with her. The fuel problem was making her more irritable than ever before.

Bellamy raised an eyebrow at Raven once everyone had finished their food. “What took you so long with Murphy duty this morning?”

“He was about three months overdue on a haircut.” She sighed like he was her responsibility. “It was time.”

“Time for him to get a _life_ , maybe,” Emori muttered under her breath.

“You know, Emori, you should go see him,” Harper suggested. “You two need to talk. We can’t keep this up forever.”

“No way in _hell_ am I doing that. Let him starve, he’ll make himself useful when he gets hungry enough.” Emori paused. “Though honestly, bringing a couple meals a day is a small price to pay for an end to his incessant blabber.”

***

Not ten minutes later, Emori found herself on the opposite side of the Ring, soup in hand and a sour expression on her face that she didn’t bother concealing. She seriously hated her friends sometimes, especially Harper. No one should be that in tune with their feelings. It was unnatural.

“John?” she called out, not knowing exactly where to find him. Emori hadn’t been to his side of the Ring before, not since he commandeered it for himself a month after she left him.

She was met with a scrambling of papers in response. _Weird, who even used paper anymore?_ Emori followed the sound to a narrow hallway leading to an exterior window.

And there he was, just like that. Sitting below the window, legs outstretched and a smirk on his face. With the new haircut he almost looked like a different person, but his telltale smirk was the same as always. “You just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

“Shut up, John,” she said. Her stomach tightened, but she tilted her shoulders back and chin up and walked to stand in front of him. Hopefully the display of confidence was enough to feign emotional detachment from the man in front of her.

He eyed her curiously. “I have to ask, why are you here?”

“Is it better of worse if I say they made me?”

John grunted in response, reaching out to grab the bowl she slid to him.

Emori fidgeted, unsure what to do next. Should she just leave? Wait for him to finish eating before making her escape? Give in to her innermost temptation and fall into his lap? _No, definitely not that last one. Definitely not._

She sunk to the floor off to the side of him, a safe arm’s reach away. John watched her in silence, not saying a word for once in his life. _Maybe being alone for so long changed him._ No, that couldn’t be right. He spent eighty six days completely alone in the lighthouse bachelor pad bunker and he was still an insatiable ass after that.

They sat in silence as John sipped at his soup. Emori fiddled with the zipper of her open sweatshirt, running her finger along the zipper’s teeth as she pulled the slider up and down, looking into John’s eyes all the while. He set the now empty bowl on the ground without breaking her gaze.

“We need to talk.” Her voice barely croaked out of her, but she continued anyway. “I don’t understand: why did you leave our family?”

“Why’d you leave _me_?”

Emori rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious, John. How could life alone possibly be better than what we had?”

“What, do you expect me to just be okay with it? To see you every day, spending all day being better than me and laughing with your new friends and playing house?” He laughed sadly. “You think I’m supposed to be okay with that, when I was over there living with nothing but the fucking ghost of you in everything I did. When all your friends turned their back on me, saying I was never good enough for you in the first place and that I deserved what was coming for me?”

He was tearing up now. “You expect me to be _okay_ with that? When you get to go home with Raven at the end of the night and all I had for company was the empty bed we used to share?”

John tensed his jaw, bringing the bite back to his voice. “Yeah, no, fuck that. I can’t live like that. And fuck you and your whole ‘family’ for expecting me to.”

“No, John, I-”

“Save it,” John interrupted. “I can’t do this right now.”

He shifted, starting to leave, but Emori caught his arm in her hand, holding him in place. “Please. Please stay. Just be with me for a minute.” _Great, now she was tearing up too_.

“What do you want from me, Emori? ‘Cause I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. I’m just trying to make it so you don’t have to see my stupid face.”

Emori shook her head. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?”

“It’s like, it’s like-” Emori bit her lip. “I don’t know. It hurts when you’re here. But when you’re gone, I- That hurts too. Like I can’t breathe.” She was leaning in close to him now. _When did that happen?_

He looked at her then, _really_ looked at her.

“John, I-”

“I know.”

And then she was grabbing onto both his shoulders, pulling herself up to him and pressing her lips to his in a searing kiss.

It took him a second to respond, but when he did it was beyond anything. His lips burned hot, _hot, hot, hot_. She groaned into the kiss, throwing her leg over him to straddle his hips. From this angle she could kiss him deeper, dirtier, just the way she needed it. She moved her right hand to tangle in his newly cropped hair, the badass one gripping tighter on his shoulder.

John returned her intensity, resting a hand on her lower back and pulling it in to grind against her. With the other, he reached to the nape of her neck, a deft hand untying and then ripping off her scarf. It landed somewhere across the hallway, but she couldn’t bring herself to know or care where. He stroked through her hair, roughing it up to grab closer to her skull.

He lifted his lips from hers, trailing them across her jaw and down her neck. Emori could feel his hardness rubbing against her where she was pressed up against him. “Please, I want-”

She was cut off by her own guttural groan when he sucked on her pulse point at the same moment he pulled her hips down and rocked into her harder.

“I know what you want. Let me give it to you?”

She nodded wordlessly, already grabbing at his shirt and jacket and trying to pull them over his head at the same time.

He chuckled and took the offending garments off himself, placing them carefully beside him. “So eager.”

“Shhh.” This was better if he didn’t speak. That way she didn’t have to think about what a bad move this was.

As much as she wanted to trail her hands over his chest and re-explore his body, right now it was more important to get her own shirts off. She crossed her arms over her torso, grasping the soft material at her hips and lifting her arms to pull off her shirts.

Emori met John’s eyes then, and he looked absolutely hypnotized. She crushed her lips to his again, pressing their upper bodies together. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had John under her like this, skin on skin. All she could think about was his body, her pleasure, and all she wanted to do was _take_. And given the way he was trailing his hand across her chest and then down lower, trailing the contour of her waist and finally pressing at the apex of her thighs, she knew he couldn’t possibly be on anything but the same page about what they needed.

He popped the buckle of her pants and slid his hand inside, dragging the zipper down as he went. His palm covered the soft curls he found there, a single finger tracing the center line of her drenched folds.

His breathing was heavy. “Clothes off, _now_ ,” he said with a soft growl. _Her thoughts exactly_.

Emori pulled off him to get undressed, pushing her pants and panties down and off her legs in one swift motion. She threw them across the hallway, not knowing or caring where they landed. John did the same with his pants but left his underwear on because _of course_ he was going to draw this out and torture her.

Not that she minded too much when he was spinning her around and pulling her back to his chest. His right hand rested high on her inner thigh, brushing lightly against the private skin there as they caught their breath. He palmed her breast in the other, kneading her softness there before toying with her nipple. He moved his hand on her thigh to ghost a finger over her labia, not quite touching.

 _Stop playing and get to the point, already_. She brought her deformed hand down to cover his between her thighs, encouraging him to press harder. He complied, pressing his thumb to circle at her clit, the rest of his fingers dragging up and down her slick wetness.

John moved his hand at her breast to grab her other one, giving it the same treatment as he had the first. She brought her right hand back behind her to grab at the nape of his neck. He circled his fingers around her soaked entrance, chuckling at the mewl she let out.

She bucked up into his hand. Apparently that was all he needed to give her what she wanted, because then he was curling a finger up into her without letting up the pressure on her clit. He swirled it around in her before bringing a second finger to dance back and forth just outside. _A question: should I go on?_

Emori bobbed her head up and down, desperate for _more, more, more_. He plunged the second finger up into her with no resistance. He moved his fingers in tandem, curling them forward to press against the sponginess of her g-spot.

She arched back into him, tilting her head to rest on his shoulder. The scent of him surrounded her. She breathed it in, drunk off of the very _John-_ ness of how he smelled pressed up against her like this, and how his fingers felt on her and inside her.

Emori was lost to pleasure, eyes screwed shut. She didn’t know how much time passed like that, or what exactly John did next. Her climax was building, and soon enough she was at the crest. Her eyes flew open and she regarded him above her. Eyes pressed tight like hers just were, bottom lip sucked between his teeth. She panted at his jaw. “I’m gonna, I need…”

“Mm hm.” He did something then, pressed down harder at her clit at the same time his fingers twisted deeper into her pussy. That was all it took to push her over the edge. She came with an uncharacteristically high-pitched moan, tensing her whole body then collapsing back against him, boneless as euphoria washed over her.

John pulled his fingers out of her and she twisted in his arms to straddle him once again. Her forehead rested against his chest. Her eyes flitted down to the bulge of his underwear. She pressed her hand there, rubbing through the fabric. She pulled at the waistband of his underwear and reached inside, teasing her thumb over the tip of his cock and working him in her palm.

He groaned above her. He grabbed Emori’s hand in his, stilling its motions. “I’m not gonna last lost long if you keep doing that. How do you want me?”

She paused for a moment, but not out of indecision. There was no option, could never be an option, not when he looked like that and felt like that and her pussy was screaming out for him to fill her. “I want you in me, John.”

He groaned again. “Yeah, we can do that.” He pulled her hand off of his cock. “Hands and knees?”

She nodded into his chest, then shifted off of him to get in position on the floor. The window behind him exhibited a clear view of the Earth, and her heart clenched at the bittersweet sight of it.

He knelt behind her, fingers toying at her entrance.

“Just do it, already.” Her voice was nearly a growl.

John pressed a soft kiss to her pussy. _Probably just to spite her_. But then he was rising up and rubbing his cock up and down her slit, coating it in her juices. He paused when he met her entrance. Her pussy clenched, trying to drag him inside.

And then he was pressing in, hard and steady, just like she needed. Fully seated inside her, it was too much. Not enough. She pushed aside the myriad of emotions swimming around in her and ground back into him, spurring him to fuck her further, faster, deeper. _More, more, more_.

* * *

_Fuck_ , he wanted nothing more than to tilt her head to the side and kiss her. To take back everything he had said and done, what she had said and done, and just be with her again. But that wasn’t what this was, that’s not what she wanted. She wanted nothing to do with him. Even now, she’d hardly look him in the eye.

So he shut his eyes so he didn’t have to look at how beautiful she was like this, back arching down and fingers seeking purchase on the cold hard floor as she pushed back to meet him with every thrust. He ground into her harder with a slight twist of his hips. The low groan that move extracted from the back of her throat had him ready to abandon his resolve to keep emotion out of this.

He loosened his grip on her hip with one hand, skimming down her ass and around to rub circles on her clit in time with their thrusting, just the way he knew she liked it. Her pussy clenched around him, and he knew she was close.

He leaned down to point his words directly at her ear. “Come for me, Mori. It’s okay, I know you need to.”

“Shut _up_ , John,” she bit back through gritted teeth. But half a second later she was coming, and he bit back a self-satisfied laugh as she tightened around him, squeezing his cock for all it was worth.

He worked her through her orgasm, slowing his motions slightly as to not overstimulate her. When she finally came down, he brought his hand back up to her hip and retightened his grip there, speeding up his motions. Murphy thrust in earnest, but she wasn’t able to counter his motions anymore. He pulled her hips back to grind that much harder into her delightfully wet pussy.

Not even a minute later he lost his rhythm. He pushed himself to the hilt and lost all control, coming with a groan and spilling his come deep inside her. He stayed there for a moment, lost in the pleasure of having this with her after so long apart.

When he pulled out, a few drops of their combined come followed him and pooled around Emori’s pussy, painting it in a glossy sheen. Murphy suppressed the urge to press it back into her, instead lowering himself to lie on the floor next to her.

Emori rolled onto her back. She watched the ceiling as if it held all the answers to the questions she wouldn’t speak aloud. Murphy followed her lead and trained his eyes there as well. She let out a soft sigh, almost inaudible. Usually this would be a time they would share together, wrapped in each other’s arms. But that was a different time. That was before she decided she didn’t need him anymore, before she left him for her new family.

Murphy snuck a look at her out of the corner of his eye. Her badass hand lay across her own chest, just as it had once found a home on his. Her right hand was at her side. With a sharp exhale, she brought that hand back and used it to prop herself up and stand to recollect her clothes. She threw Murphy his underwear, which had landed on top of her pants. She pulled her clothes on quickly and haphazardly, clearly frustrated.

Murphy propped himself up on his elbows. “Emori-”

“No, John.” She took a breath. “This was a mistake, I never should have come here. Should’ve expected you’d pull something like this.”

“Me? Really?” Murphy scoffed. “You’re the one who threw yourself at me. Looks like Raven isn’t as _satisfying_ as you thought she’d be. Guess we found the one thing I can do that she can’t.”

Emori rolled her eyes. She bent down to pick his underwear up off the floor and toss it to him. “I’m not sure what you’re insinuating, but Raven’s great. And she actually works to get us back to the ground and to keep us all alive. What do _you_ do, again?”

Murphy was silent, averting his eyes.

Emori huffed. “That’s what I thought.” She turned on her heel and walked away, back to her side of the Ring.

Murphy watched her as she went, until she disappeared behind a corner. He let his head sink back to the floor. _Fuck_. Somehow he had managed to fuck things up even more than they already were. He hadn’t thought that was possible, but his life was always full of fun little surprises like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for this fic came as a little 'what if' while I was watching 6x10 Matryoshka. (That's nearly seven months ago now, wow!) I couldn't get it out of my head, and now here we are! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @mobi-on-a-mission
> 
> Comments give me life. Seriously I'm a huge dork and will probably squeal in excitement when I see it and have to jump up and down for a minute before I'm in my right mind to respond. So if you've enjoyed this at all please let me know!
> 
> -Mobi <3


	2. The Himalayan Blunder

Emori brought her shoulders back and tilted her chin up as as she stalked away from John. She decidedly did _not_ look back at him. _That would be weakness. She couldn’t show weakness_.

When she got back to the common area on the main side of the Ring, only Bellamy was sitting there. He was curled up on a couch under the soft yellow light of a lamp, a tattered copy of _The Iliad_ in hand. He had already read it about a thousand times before during their time in space. There were plenty of other books, but he mostly stuck to that one. Emori understood his affinity for old comforts. She wouldn’t judge, anyway.

“Hey Emori.” Bellamy looked up to her, and his face fell when he saw her conflicted expression. “How’d it go with Murphy?” he said, softer and more carefully.

“Fine,” she murmured, sinking into the opposite side of the couch.

Bellamy tilted his head to the side, unimpressed. “You’re a better actor than that. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it right now, but something’s clearly bothering you.”

Emori sighed in frustration. Her head fell against the back cushion of the couch. She didn’t respond to Bellamy, just let her eyes glaze over staring at the mug of warm water he had set on the table in front of them.

It had become a bit of a nightly tradition to meet Bellamy here. In the beginning, it had been a practicality. Emori needed to learn how to read, and Bellamy was the obvious choice for a teacher. Anyway, he was too much of a nerd and a dad friend to let anyone else manage her literary education.

Echo had been there in the beginning, too. He had taught them together, until eventually they no longer needed his help. Echo stopped coming after that. She took no pleasure in reading. She saw it only as a means to an end, a way of getting information. It was by some miracle that she and Bellamy got along so well. Their worldviews were polar opposites, but they had gotten close on the Ring, spending more and more time together since Bellamy forgave Echo for all the murder sometime around the end of year three.

Bellamy returned his attention to his book. Emori sunk deeper into her thoughts. _What had she done? How could she be so stupid, so weak as to give in to temptation?_

The hiccuping shake of Emori’s silent sobs pulled Bellamy out of his reading. “Oh, sweetie…” He hesitated, clearly unsure of what to do, but his nurturing nature won out. Emori vaguely processed Bellamy closing his book and setting it next to the mug. He traversed the length of the couch to sit next to her and pull her into his chest, shushing lightly.

She clutched onto his shirt with one hand and buried her face in his shoulder. He stroked his hand over her head through her scarf, and her sobs grew harder and louder.

“It’s okay, we’ve got you,” he soothed. “Family takes care of family. What did he do to you?”

 _Why would he assume John hurt her? Oh…_ She shifted her head, just enough so that her words didn’t go directly into his shirt. “He didn’t do anything, Bellamy. I did. I messed everything up.”

“And how did you do that?”

 _By fucking him instead of talking to him. By not punching him in the face. By following him on that stupid boat all those years ago. By taking the stupid chip so she could find him. For the million stupid mistakes she made between then and now. Why did she ever think they were meant for each other? They were too much the same. Too different._ She didn’t say anything, just cried out harder.

They sat there like that for what felt like hours, Bellamy holding her and Emori crying into his chest. Echo approached them at one point, but Bellamy shook his head and she slipped back toward their quarters without a word.

“Where’s the soup bowl, Emori?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Neither of them spoke after that. Soon she drifted off to sleep, still pulled into Bellamy’s chest.

The next thing Emori knew, he was lifting her in his arms with a soft exhale and carrying her down the hall. She didn’t let on that she was awake. She was exhausted, and if he knew he’d probably make her walk.

Bellamy pressed open the door of her and Raven’s quarters. He set her on her side of the bed and pulled off her shoes. A little bit of John’s come from earlier oozed out of her at the motion, and she groaned at the reminder of what she had done.

Emori watched as Bellamy slipped out. In the limelight from the hallway, she could see Raven’s sleeping form on the opposite side of the bed. Bellamy closed the door, and she let her eyes flutter shut. Her mind was plagued with worries and guilt, but the reassuring sound of Raven’s steady breathing pulled her back to sleep.

* * *

Murphy was roused from his sleep by a Bellamy-shaped form padding toward him in the hallway. _Not this again._ It wasn’t even morning yet.

Bellamy paused to take in the scene in front of him. _Fuck._ He hadn’t even bothered to get redressed after he fucked Emori. _At least he had pulled on the underwear she threw to him. Otherwise Bellamy would be getting an eyeful right about now._

Bellamy nodded at nothing in particular, then swiftly moved to pick up Murphy’s soup bowl from earlier. He padded off as quickly as he had come, leaving Murphy to wallow in his own stupidity. _Yep, Bellamy definitely knew what had gone down. As if he needed yet another reason to hate Murphy’s guts._

Once Bellamy was gone, Murphy peeled himself off the floor to pick up his clothes and put them back on. He grabbed his pants first. They slid up his hips easily, as they had a thousand times before. His shirt and jacket were still next to the window where he had placed them earlier. But as careful as he had been, that hadn’t stopped two photographs from falling from his jacket pocket, one of them face up and staring back at him. _Shit, did Emori see that?_ He hoped not. She couldn’t know he had it.

The photo was from a few years ago, long after the excitement of Praimfaya, his coma, and fighting to survive on the Ring had died down. The girls had decided to throw a party. They always came out of girls’ night with the strangest ideas the rest of them were then subjected to. But this one was fun. The party was in celebration of some grounder holiday Echo loved as a little kid, centered around the winter solstice.

The girls spent an entire week over-preparing for the party, whenever they weren’t working. They scavenged all over the Ring for colorful blankets and draped them around the common room. They figured out a way to make face paint from pigments they found at the redistribution center.

They even convinced Monty to brew a batch of god-awful algae moonshine. Usually he was too stingy, would mumble something about using excess algae as fertilizer (for what, Murphy had no clue). Harper probably had a hand in persuading him to the side of the partiers, but the details were none of Murphy’s business.

On the day of the party, all the girls took the afternoon off from their usual responsibilities to meet in Raven’s room and prepare. They donned formalwear that Murphy had never known existed on the Ark. _Must have been an Alpha Station thing_. They coiffed their hair and decorated their faces with the paints. Once they were ready, Harper came to summon each one of the boys to the room like it was a highly serious matter.

Somehow the girls had prepared formalwear for the boys that fit perfectly without having ever tried them on before. _Fucking witches, by god_. They were treated to the same care the girls had given themselves earlier. The whole thing was incredibly silly, but even Murphy had to admit that it was also incredibly fun.

After a dinner of algae soup—even the winter solstice couldn’t make that taste any better—they moved over to the decorated dance floor the girls had cleared. Music sounded through hundred-year-old speakers, and Monty poured each of them a cup of algae moonshine. They tried to play the traditional games that Echo said they always did for the winter solstice celebration, but at the rate she was drinking it wasn’t long before she could no longer explain the rules.

None of them cared too much. They were all feeling the moonshine, and the music that sounded from the speakers aroused them to dance clumsily around the floor. The room was filled with their giggles and cheers along with the pounding bass of the music.

A slow and romantic song came on, and Emori pulled Murphy close to dance, just the two of them. She was always beautiful, but on that particular day she was absolutely breathtaking. She wore a long green dress with a sparkly silver necklace hanging in the V of the neckline. She wasn’t wearing her usual scarf on her head; instead her hair was pulled in an elaborate updo that Harper was definitely responsible for. She wore less face paint than the others, probably because she was already so well decorated with her tattoo, but they had painted a simple dotting pattern down from her neck to her fingers.

They swayed in each others arms, neither knowing how to properly dance but neither caring. Murphy leaned down to whisper something in her hair, he couldn’t even remember what anymore, and a flash of light drew his eye. Raven giggled, holding an old digital camera in hand. She scampered off, probably to go take a photo of someone else. Murphy couldn’t care less. He had Emori in his arms, and he was happy.

After the party, Raven uploaded the photos she took onto the archive. Murphy hadn’t thought much of it. He saw everyone every day, why would he need photographs to remember their faces? But then, after he left everyone and his days had gotten a lot more empty, his boredom got the best of him and he looked through the photo album from the winter solstice party.

His breath hitched when he saw the photo. It was a side profile. Emori’s hand was on his arm and his was on her waist. His head was obscured behind hers, but her face was in clear view. Smiling toward the camera. Happy, carefree, the two of them so clearly in love.

***

Murphy picked up the photo of Emori and himself. He ran his thumb over it and hummed at the familiar sight of it. The second photograph was upside down on the floor. He picked that one up as well, turning it in his hand.

This one was from when he was a child, not long before he got sick and his dad got floated. It was a family portrait, the three of them smiling brightly at the camera. His parents had saved their rations for months to afford that single photo. _Cost about as much as the medicine that wouldn’t have cured Murphy anyway._

If Murphy hadn’t been there himself, he wouldn’t believe it was him in the photo. Young Murphy’s face was unrecognizable from what he became. Too smiley, too naïve, too carefree. That was a thousand lifetimes ago. That was before the demons got to him.

Emori helped him print his family portrait off the archive about a year into their time on the Ring. She had found the printing machine on the side of the Ring that was now his. It was covered in rubble and forgotten about before then, partially broken and left to sit. But Emori, being the genius that she was, seemed to have no trouble putting it back into working order.

She didn’t tell him she was working on the printing machine, which was only strange because there wasn’t a whole lot to talk about when they’d been trapped in a tin can with the same handful of people for years. But one day, she grinned at him, took his hand, and led him to the opposite side of the Ring from all their friends.

He assumed she was just horny and wanted to fuck him five ways from Sunday far enough away that no one could hear them. And granted, she _did_ fuck him there. But that was after she led him to an unassuming grey machine. Emori looked at him expectantly, ready for him to get excited along with her. “Uh, what is that?” he asked instead.

She laughed. “Oh, right. You wouldn’t know. It’s a printing machine. Used for putting words or images on paper.”

“Paper?” Murphy knew what it was, of course, but it was an archaic technology.

“That’s right: paper. There’s still a couple reams left.” At Murphy’s still confused expression, she pressed on. “I thought we could use it to print out photos. Of things we don’t want to lose. That way we can keep them with us forever.”

“The only thing I don’t want to lose is you, though.” He leaned down to kiss her.

“Liar,” she laughed, but kissed him back anyway.

They only ended up printing the one photo that day, the one of his family. But Murphy was about 99% sure Emori went back to use the printing machine alone. There was a suspicious lump under her side of their mattress, and he saw her shove a nameless book under there one time when he came home early. He never looked at it, though, had no idea what was important enough for her to print out and sleep on top of. And when she left him for Raven’s room, when he was angry enough that he probably would have looked, she had taken the book along with her.

* * *

After her emotions ran down regarding the _John Incident_ , as she came to think of it, things returned to normal for Emori. She decided to place all blame for the incident on him. Although potentially ( _definitely_ ) not true, blaming John was much easier than addressing her own problems. She worked with Raven during the day and read with Bellamy in the evenings. She honed her fighting skills with Echo once every third day, and once a week she had girls’ night with the other three women of the Ring.

Routine is what made her life on the Ring work. Back on Earth, everything she did was to stay alive. Emori spent most of her time there securing food, water, shelter, and safety. On the Ring, though… securing those things didn’t take much. Monty had the algae farm running. Harper helped him sometimes, but not really by necessity. The water reclamator had plenty of capacity for seven people, and though she tested it regularly it had only required maintenance a handful of times in nearly six years. She didn’t have any enemies on the Ring. There was no one to kill her for being born a _frikdreina_ or for stealing.

The biggest threat to their survival was the looming risk of life support systems on the Ring malfunctioning beyond repair before they could solve the fuel problem and get back to Earth. Emori threw herself into life as Raven’s second. Not only did it give her something useful to do so that she could never be disposable again, it was _fun_. Meaningful. Fulfilling. The spacewalking didn’t hurt, either.

 _And oh, the spacewalking was spectacular._ It felt like flying, but a million times better. Completely weightless, suspended among the stars. Anything could go wrong. _Everything_ could go wrong. But feeling like that, it was worth the risk. She finally understood why Raven had once wanted to die that way. Emori was one to always choose survival, even if it meant endless pain, but she could relate to Raven’s desire to go out like that.

A month after the _John Incident_ , Emori went on a spacewalk to fix a dislodged panel. She finished early and pushed herself away from the wall. She just floated for a few minutes, turning flips and relishing in the feeling of absolute freedom. It was still surreal to think that she, a _frikdreina_ of all things, cast out of her clan as an infant, criminal by the age of three, could have all this. Raven called for her to come in, but Emori tuned out the sound of her voice over comms. The moment was perfect, far too perfect to be ruined by reality.

The shrill beeping of her oxygen tank pulled Emori out of her fun. She relented with a sigh, pulling at her teather to propel her body back to the airlock.

Raven stood just inside. She was fuming, arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face. “Emori!” she yelled as soon as the door was open. “You can’t just do whatever you want out there. I can’t have an assistant who won’t come in when I tell her to.”

“Come on, Raven, no one got hurt. We can have fun every once in awhile. Live a little.”

Raven tightened her arms over her chest. “I have _no idea_ how to do that.”

Emori’s eyes slid up and down her friend’s body. “Clearly.” She scoffed.

That earned her a slap on the wrist. “Come on,” Raven said. “Lots more work to do. But you’re on the most menial, most boring jobs until I’m no longer pissed at you.”

Emori groaned, but followed her back home. “That’s fair, I guess.”

***

Raven held true to her word. She bored Emori to death with performing repetitive derivatives and solving equations to an absurd number of significant figures.

“Don’t we have computers to do all this?”

“Not today, we don’t!” _Now that was just petty._

Emori dropped her head on the table, groaning her annoyance. Raven laughed. _She was enjoying this way too much._

By the time Monty called them for dinner, Emori was _starving_. “Thank Heda for algae, am I right?”

Harper quirked an eyebrow at her uncharacteristically cheery disposition. “Thank Heda, indeed!” She smiled. “I take it the spacewalk went well?”

“Oh, it was the _best_.”

“For some of us, maybe,” Raven grumbled.

“Yeah, and others of us about had a stroke because they can’t learn to chill out,” Emori bit back.

Echo rolled her eyes. “Children. I’m surrounded by children.”

“Tell me about it,” Bellamy said through a smile.

Monty passed the soup bowls down the table. “You know you love us.”

Emori’s stomach turned when her bowl reached her end of the table. The smell was so much worse than usual. It made her want to gag. _Must have been a failed experiment of a new recipe_. She forced the liquid down her throat as quickly as possible. Her stomach turned again.

She stood up from the table and all but ran to the bathroom. By some miracle she made it to the toilet before ejecting the contents of her stomach. Her vomit was disgusting: green and watery. _She wouldn’t want to clean that up off the floor._

Emori groaned, letting her forehead fall forward onto the toilet seat. She dry heaved over the toilet for a couple minutes. Her stomach was still whirling, and now she had a killer headache as well. She whimpered.

 _Come on, Emori. You’re stronger than that. Get up, take a shower, and get back to your friends._ That’s exactly what she did. The spray of the shower helped to ease her nausea, and by the time she got out it had subsided to a dull headache.

No one mentioned her sudden departure when she returned to the dining table. They welcomed her back seamlessly. They played a game of lily pads, like Bellamy used to do with Octavia. They were all much too old for the childs’ game, but they also had nothing better to do. Emori lost her previous worries to jump around the room and enjoy the company of her friends. Soon, she forgot about the pain in her stomach and head, diving headfirst into childish hijinks and a chorus of laughter and yells.

***

Usually Emori would read with Bellamy in the evenings, but after the game of lily pads she was exhausted. “Sorry, Bell. I’m just too tired tonight.”

“That’s fine, don’t worry about it.” His words were reassuring, but his face gave him away. Bellamy tightened his forehead and quirked his lips. It was clear to Emori that he was trying to figure her out. She was acting weird that day, she knew that. But she didn’t have an explanation, so she just walked away and left him to draw his own conclusions.

Emori snuggled into bed alone. Always a night owl, she wasn’t accustomed to falling asleep without the sound of someone else’s soothing breath to lull her. Being so tired, though, it was only a minute before she was fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> This chapter was really fun to write. A little angst, a little fluff... It hurts to write Memori when they're not even in the same scenes together, but that'll just make it feel all that much sweeter when they get together, right? Here's where we get to start seeing their world with their past and Spacekru. How am I getting it so far? Is this how you see canon, or am I way off base?
> 
> Thank you for all the love on chapter 1. I sneaked a peak while I was in the office at work (I work at a bar, that's part of the reason I have a weird schedule and post in the middle of the night), and I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw there were five comments. I seriously did a double-take. I even convinced myself they were all gonna be hate comments. When I read them and there was no hate anywhere, I squealed and danced around before responding (I called it last chapter, didn't I?)
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter! See you in the comments :)
> 
> -Mobi <3


	3. Ignorance Is Bliss

If Murphy knew two things in his life, fully and without question, they were as follows:

  1. He was completely and hopelessly in love with Emori.
  2. He was a piece of shit who didn’t deserve her.



He couldn’t handle it when she realized how great she was. Murphy knew he was a shit person for being scared of her success, but he couldn’t help it. He was human trash, and it was only a matter of time before she realized it.

He was jealous, _seething_ with jealousy, over how good she was at being useful and how easily her friends came to embrace her as part of the group. They had never accepted him, and he grew up with them. Then he gets a girlfriend and they love _her_? Bullshit. It was too easy for her.

Murphy hated himself. He had for as long as he could remember. _Probably since his mom started hating him_ _for killing his dad_. But every once in a while, he found a way to pull some shit that made him hate himself even more. First it was for setting his dad’s arresting officer’s quarters on fire. Then it was for basically killing Charlotte. Then for suffocating the two kids in the dropship. For hanging Bellamy, for shooting Raven. For pushing Emori away. For trying to escape his problems by fleeing to the opposite side of the Ring.

Now, Murphy hated himself even more because he couldn’t bring himself to let her go. He toyed with the trigger of his lighter, held it to the picture of the two of them dancing from a million years ago. Usually he’d be able to pull the trigger, no problem. Pain, hate, envy: those were the ABC’s of who he was. John Murphy, arrested for arson at the ripe old age of twelve. He had no problem starting fires. Murphy wasn’t the type of man to mend bridges. He just burnt them.

With this one particular bridge, though, he couldn’t bring himself to burn it. Emori left him. Passive aggressive comments turned to fighting turned to ignoring each other, and then she’d had enough. One night she just… left. Murphy didn’t know what the tipping point was, but she was gone. Her stuff was gone. And he knew, surer than anything, that she wasn’t coming back.

Yet still, part of his heart still held onto her. _Fucking love_. Murphy hated it. He shouldn’t even have the photograph of her in the first place. Shouldn’t have printed it, not after she left him. It wasn’t dignified, to pine after her like this.

He toyed with the lighter one last time, halfheartedly, and threw it across the room.

* * *

Emori woke up to see the opposite end of the bed empty, covers overturned and rumpled. _Weird._ Raven always woke her up in the morning. She never let her oversleep, especially when she was pissed off about something. Emori pushed off her blankets and touched her bare feet to the freezing floor. She stood to throw on her clothes and shoes, and a wave of nausea hit her.

She rushed to the bathroom to throw up into the toilet. She and Raven had an en suite, so it wasn’t far. This time when she threw up, the nausea subsided to a soft hum almost immediately. Emori stood again, wincing at the cold floor under her feet as she washed out her mouth. Stupid John had gotten her accustomed to sleeping without shoes on the Ark. He said there was no need to be able to run at a moment’s notice.

Emori laughed to herself. “Liar,” she muttered under her breath.

***

Her day passed as normal. The gentle hum of nausea persisted, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. It wasn’t even worth mentioning to her friends.

When she met Echo for training that afternoon, though, it got more difficult for Emori to ignore her nausea. They were sparring, and Echo flipped her upside down over her shoulder and dropped her backfirst on the padded floor. Emori hit the ground hard, and she threw up all over the mat.

There was a second of silence as both women processed what just happened. “Uh, I don’t feel well,” Emori said. _Clearly._

“Go see Harper. I’ll clean this up.”

Emori nodded and wiped her face on her hand. She washed herself off before making her way to the algae farm. That’s where Harper usually was at this time of day. She was their designated healer, though she had no actual medical training. Still, Harper’s knowledge of healing was the best they had available on the Ring. There was an arsenal of medical texts at her disposal, and she spent a lot of her time learning from them.

Emori knocked at the door. “Harper?” she called. She had learned, during her time in space, to always knock before opening closed doors. It only took a couple instances of walking in on her friends in compromising positions for her to learn that lesson. Raven, for one, still hadn’t learned it. They tried their best to lock doors to keep her out, but she still walked in on them all the time, always nonchalant about it. That bothered the rest of them to no end.

“Come in!” It was Harper’s voice.

Emori pushed open the door to the farm. Monty was crouched to her left, engrossed in the algae he was tending to. He didn’t notice her walk in, and she didn’t want to create a distraction by greeting him.

Farther into the room, there was a lab and office area. Harper was sitting at a desk set against the side wall of the farm, a data pad in front of her showing an old medical journal. “What’s up?”

Emori crossed over to Harper and sat on a three-legged metal stool next to her. “I don’t feel well.”

“Hmm.” Harper stood, crossing the few feet between them to lay the back of her hand on Emori’ forehead. “You don’t have a fever. What are your symptoms?”

“I feel—how do you say it?—barfy.” At Harper’s soft nod, she continued. “Yeah, I feel barfy. Like I ate a whole vat of algae and now I’m hot and sweaty and barfy. Except I ate a normal amount hours ago and it’s not even hot in here, I know that. I was just sparring with Echo and I threw up all over the floor.”

Harper screwed up her nose at that, but her eyes were all sympathy. “How long have you been feeling queasy like this?”

“On and off since yesterday evening’s meal. It’s not always so bad, but I’ve thrown up three times already.”

Harper clucked her tongue absentmindedly. “Alright. Well, this seems like something that’ll pass. Drink lots of water. Nausea can be a symptom of dehydration, and you’re expelling more liquids than usual. I recommend you take the rest of the day off. Try to get some rest.” She looked pointedly into Emori’s eyes. “And definitely no sparring until I say so.”

“Aye aye.”

“Seriously. No trying to be a badass. Just because I didn’t diagnose anything doesn’t mean there’s nothing wrong with you. No point in pushing too hard.”

 _Yeah, Harper had her pegged._ Emori batted her eyelashes. “I could _never_ go against your wishes.”

Harper chuckled and patted her shoulder. “Sure, honey. It’s good to see you haven’t lost your spunk there.”

 _“_ Never _._ ”

***

Emori did as she was told. After leaving the algae farm, she went to talk to Raven and tell her she was going home for the rest of the day. Raven teased her about faking sickness just to get out of the shame of her punishment for the spacewalk, but she didn’t try to make her stay.

Echo was laid out on the couch nearby with a data pad, taking advantage of her unscheduled free time to watch some television drama series from the 21st century. She waved Emori off as she passed by. Emori took that to mean ‘training is cancelled,’ ‘don’t bother apologizing for getting sick on me,’ and ‘feel better soon.’ They’d gotten good at nonverbal communication over the years, for which Emori was grateful. She wasn’t one for many words.

She poured herself a cup of water and retreated to her and Raven’s quarters. She plopped down on the bed. Her legs dangled over the edge, and she put a little force into their swinging. It bothered her to not be doing anything productive. For her whole life, Emori had made herself useful. Starting from her early days as a clumsy pickpocket, her livelihood had been based on what she contributed. Her gang would help her through the occasional bad mark or failed heist, but failure to produce was dangerous. It made her too visible to Baylis, too at risk to be beaten or kicked out.

Even after she and Otan had left the gang, she needed to provide. It was a matter of life and death. Always. It was no fluke that Emori survived Praimfaya. She was always fighting to survive.

But now, she was safe. She could swing her legs over the edge of her bed and listen to the soft thumping rhythm her calves made against the material. It was as boring as watching algae soup cake onto a bowl, but there wasn’t much to do in space.

Emori kicked off her shoes, not caring where they landed (Raven was characteristically messy—she would hardly notice, let alone care about, an extra couple shoes on the floor). For lack of anything better to do, she lay down to take a nap. Emori _was_ tired, after all. Come to think of it, she’d been tired a lot lately. It would be good to get some extra sleep.

***

She slept until the evening meal. By that time, the urge to violently hurl all over the Ring was almost completely gone. As a precaution, she made sure to finish her glass of water before going to eat. The smell of the algae soup made her feel sick, but the nausea subsided again once it was gone.

Things settled over the following couple days. Emori kept a cup of water at her work station all day and by her bed all night. She still felt nauseous, but mostly only in the mornings and evenings.

The third day following her trip to Harper, it was girls’ night. They had done so many by now that it was difficult to remember, but Emori was pretty sure that girls’ night had started as a joke. It was a relic of a society before the first bombs, when women would take time to spend exclusively with their female friends.

Echo, who had taken a liking to pre-bomb media, had grown confused over the recurring theme of girls’ nights in movies. “They were not warriors preparing for battle,” she’d pondered, “so why was there a tradition of bonding with specific people?”

Harper had tsked at Echo’s confusion. “Because it’s _fun_ ,” she’d argued. “Not everything is about what’s good for your clan. Girls’ night is about being with your girls and having a good time.”

Echo still hadn’t understood why the ‘girls’ part of it was important. Raven agreed with her: why wouldn’t it be better to have a good time with everyone and not just the girls? Emori had stayed quiet, simply enjoying her friends’ bickering over something so inconsequential.

Harper had been way too defensive of girls’ night. “You know what?” she had almost yelled. “Let’s do it! Girls’ night, tomorrow, after the evening meal. No complaints, this is happening. You’re going to eat your words, girls’ night is gonna be the best.”

They’d groaned, but ultimately relented. Turns out, Harper was right and they did eat their words. Emori didn’t know quite why girls’ night was such a success, but soon it became a weekly tradition for the women of the Ring. There was something about the unique dynamic when it was just the girls that made for a completely different experience than they could create with any other grouping. And it was _undeniably_ fun.

This time, the four of them were in Echo’s room. They were lounging on her bed and discussing her relationship with Bellamy.

“I thought you two were just fucking?” Raven was never one for subtlety. “Is that old news now?”

Echo sighed. “I don’t know. I thought so. But we’re such good friends that now that we’re together physically it’s almost like we’re a couple already. It’s the logical next step, shouldn’t I just do it?”

“Probably, yeah.” Harper shrugged.

Raven snorted. “Says the girl who got her long-term boyfriend by jumping his bones.” She shot Harper a look. “And they’ve been basically perfect ever since. Consider the source, it doesn’t always work like that.”

“Tell me about it.” Emori rolled her eyes. It was easy with John, at the beginning. She wanted him and he wanted her. _If only it had stayed that way._

Harper threw her arms around Emori’s shoulders, squeezing lightly and dropping a chaste kiss to the top of her head.

Echo dropped her head on the bed. “What should I do? You all have more experience in this sort of thing than I do.”

Raven scoffed. “Shitty experience, maybe.”

“Experience nonetheless. How did you decide to take Finn as your lover?”

“I fell into it, sort of. He was always there, and he was all I had. I couldn’t imagine my life with anyone else.” She paused. “But of course he had a life outside of me. He was my world, but I wasn’t his. He wasted _no time_ before jumping onto Clarke the second they got to the ground.”

“Basically, Echo-” Harper was still hugging Emori, now with just one arm, “-good friends don’t always make good lovers. But you and Bellamy, I think you’d be good for each other.”

Raven hummed her agreement. Emori knew she was probably too jaded to give relationship advice, so she stayed silent. _Don’t just do what’s easy_ , she wanted to say. _You don’t have to be with him just because he’s there, just because you think he’s the only one who could love you._

When Emori did speak, she chuckled to herself. “You might want to wait for a bit if you do decide to ask Bellamy to be yours.” She lifted her eyebrows. “So you don’t bleed all over when you’re celebration fucking.”

“What are you talking about?” Echo said. _Okay, joke not well received_.

“It’s just, you know, we’re about to get our periods. I don’t know about you, but I prefer to not be bleeding out my vagina during sex. Not even to mention the squeezing pain in my uterus, ache in my back, and whatever it is that makes it feel like someone slapped me in the pussy.”

They all eyed her, a little disturbed.

“I get that part,” Echo said. “But we just finished our periods last week.” Echo and Emori were the only two of them who got periods, and they were synced within a couple days of each other. All skaikru women and men received implants as teenagers, which prevented menstruation as well as pregnancy. But they didn’t know how long they would be on the Ring, so they were rationing the few implants they had found to last as long as possible. Emori and Echo didn’t need the implants, so they never got them.

“No.” Emori shook her head, sure of herself. “We’re due soon.”

Harper froze at Emori’s side. She turned to her, eyes widening. “When, exactly, was your last period?”

“Um…” Emori racked her brain. “It started on Raven’s birthday.”

“Dude,” Raven said, “That was a month and a half ago.”

This was bizarre. Emori never went that long between periods. And if Echo had gotten hers weeks ago…

Harper cleared her throat, hesitant. “Is there-is there any chance you could be pregnant?”

“What? Of course not.” Emori shook her head.

Raven laughed. “How would that have even happened? She hasn’t had sex in ages. We share a bed, I think I’d know. All the boys have implants anyway.”

Harper didn’t look convinced. “Emori, is there _any_ chance?”

 _Shit._ Shit, shit, shit. _Was_ there a chance? She _had_ been feeling sick. The implants expired eventually, didn’t they? That little fact had never weighed on her mind before. She had only had sex once recently, but if John’s implant had expired, then yeah. It could be possible.

Emori sat frozen, not knowing what to tell them.

Raven was aghast at her expression. “Shit, yeah. I guess it’s possible. If that were a no you wouldn’t have to think about it so damn hard.”

Harper took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do: we’re going to medical. I can run a blood test there.” Her voice was soft. Soothing. “Once we know, one way or another, we can deal with it.” She squeezed Emori lightly on the shoulder. “You’re going to be okay.”

Emori wasn’t aware enough to really know what happened next. Her head was fuzzy from a million new thoughts swirling through her mind. Somehow all four women traveled from Echo’s quarters to medical, which was really just a single bed in a room connected to the algae farm.

Harper steered Emori through the halls and parked her on the side of the bed in medical. She left the room, presumably to grab supplies, and Raven sat down to Emori’s left and Echo to her right. They each grasped one of her hands in theirs, squeezing reassuringly and wordlessly.

Harper smiled sweetly when she reentered the room. “We’re going to do an hCG blood test. It measures a hormone that indicates pregnancy.”

Emori nodded wordlessly.

“I’m going to take a sample of your blood, then I’ll take it to the lab to run the test. We should be able to know if you’re pregnant by the end of the night.”

Hopefully Raven and Echo were absorbing this information. Emori nodded even though she had about a million questions running through her head and drowning out Harper’s voice.

“Which arm do you want me to take the blood from?” Harper asked. Instinctively, Emori moved her left hand to settle under her thigh and jerked her right one forward. She knew it was illogical, but she wanted her deformity as far from this as possible. Raven squeezed it again, not letting go of the hand even with how it was uncomfortably squeezed under Emori’s leg.

Emori watched as Harper secured an elastic band on her upper arm. She regarded the arm, and found a spot to take the blood from. She wiped alcohol over the spot.

“I’m gonna use the needle now.” Harper pricked the skin, but she must have done something wrong because it took a couple tries before she hit the vein correctly. When she did, blood started flowing from the needle to a small bag she had prepared.

Harper smiled. “That’s plenty!” She removed the elastic band from Emori’s arm, then took the needle out and pressed gauze to the bead of red blood that formed on her skin. “Echo, could you apply pressure?”

Echo brought her free hand to press the gauze more firmly into Emori’s arm as Harper grabbed a bandage.

Once it was all done, Harper took the sample to the lab for analysis. Emori sat motionless. Her friends continued to hold her hands in theirs. They were completely silent, knowing just what Emori needed. They didn’t burden the empty air with questions of _who?_ and _when?_ and _how?_ Maybe they figured things out themselves, or maybe they were leaving the questions for later. Either way, Emori was thankful they were here for her. This would be so much harder alone.

Either five minutes or five hours passed, she had no idea. But then the door to the lab creaked back open and Harper stepped inside the room with the other women.

Emori sat up straighter on the bed and tilted her chin up. Either she was pregnant, or she wasn’t. Hiding from the truth wasn’t an option.

* * *

Murphy woke up that night to the feeling of Echo’s fist slamming into his face. He didn’t know what it was for, but _yeah_ , he probably deserved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> Another day, another chapter :) This was a very _Emori being an idiot_ chapter, which is always fun. I found that it's difficult to figure out what to do with Murphy when he's just sitting on the other side of the ship alone! I went with pining over his lost love. That's a safe bet, and important to the whole relationship shenanigans we have going on here.
> 
> How do you feel about the Space Sisters connecting the dots and taking the blood test? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter and where the story is going now that they're finding out about the pregnancy.
> 
> -Mobi <3


	4. Carry the Torch

Almost all his life, John Murphy had been trapped in one way or another. In abuse, in the skybox, in torture, in the bunker, or on the Ring. And just when he got the chance to go down to Earth and be free again, he fucked it all up by deciding to stay on Eligius IV with Raven. _Why? He didn’t know why. Maybe he wanted to impress Emori. Maybe he wanted to take the burden of genocide off Raven. Or maybe he was just self-sabotaging._ Whatever, it didn’t matter. That’s how it was.

Raven may have said that dying alone would suck, but that didn’t instill confidence into Murphy that she wanted him there. It seemed that every bit of energy she wasn’t spending on keeping tabs on the cryopods and the prisoners on the ground, she spent berating him. Sure, he was incredibly useless and a bit of an ass. But that was his _thing_. It didn’t usually bother her.

Things got easier after they talked and Murphy told her he’d be the one to pull the lever if it came down to it. She finally allowed him to drag her away from the control panel and get her to lie down in a real bed. She needed rest.

Because Raven was an insufferable little shit, she refused to sleep. _Apparently_ it was much more fun to play therapist. She lay on her back next to him on the bed, brace placed neatly by her side and hands lying on her stomach. “So. Murphy. Why are you such a dickwad?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Why are you such an ass?”

_Ouch._ He forced a smirk. “Can’t handle all this charm?”

Raven turned her head to him. “I’m being serious. You already broke Emori’s heart, and now you keep rubbing salt in the wound.”

“She’s the one who left me for not being good enough. Why don’t you ask her why _she’s_ such an ass?”

“Emori is a little over the top, sure. But she’s not out of line. That’s all on you, then and now. It was your fault she left, your fault you disappeared on us, and your fault this is all so hard on her.”

Murphy groaned and buried his head in a pillow. “I love her, okay? How am I supposed to just turn it off after six years?”

“No one is asking you to stop loving her, Murphy. You don’t _deserve_ her love in return, but you can feel that way.” She paused. “But if you really love her you’ll let her be happy. She wouldn’t admit it, but she cares about you too much to really move on when you still hate her.”

“She doesn’t care about me though.”

Raven shook her head. “Stupid boy. You don’t get it, do you?”

“What’s there to get?”

“You fucked up a good thing. She was the best thing to ever happen to you, and you fucked it up.”

“Of _course_ I fucked up.” Murphy raised his eyebrows. “But how does that equal Emori caring about me?”

Raven sighed. “You were a good thing for her, too. For years. You showed her care and love and acceptance and all that mushy shit. Sure, you fucked it up and she left you. But that didn’t erase all the good that came before.”

Murphy was tearing up now. “I miss- I miss her.”

Raven shifted her body to cuddle into him. “She misses you too, I think. The way you were before, at least. The Murphy she knows is still inside you somewhere. Underneath all the venom. That’s part of what makes it hurt so much. You’re here, but at the same time you’re not really here at all.”

Murphy’s voice broke. “What am I supposed to do?”

“What you’re _supposed_ to do is talk to her. Why is that never the first instinct? She’s going through a tough time right now, and she needs you to be there. Like _really_ be there.”

“Emori won’t let me within ten feet of her.”

Raven laughed. “Has that ever stopped you before? Don’t push too hard, but you need to talk to her. It’s important.”

* * *

Being in Louwoda Kliron was extremely off-putting after spending six years in space. Emori had never been to the valley before, and everything was unfamiliar, but in a way it felt like coming home. The air was wet and quiet. There was no machine hum, yet it didn’t smell like sea salt and the wind didn’t throw sand into her face. The valley was green. It was full of brown dirt, tall trees, and small animals. It smelled like rain, and it was absolutely beautiful.

Emori was at a loss for words when she landed the rocket on the ground. Once she felt the solid force of the ground underneath them, she couldn’t believe she had done it. It couldn’t be true. _They didn’t die. John was wrong, she didn’t kill them all. She brought them home safe._ It felt amazing.

All that came crashing down when it took all of ten seconds from when she stepped out of the rocket to when she was being held at gunpoint. “Everybody, on your knees!” the Eligius prisoner commanded. _Oh, right. That’s why leaving Earth hadn’t hurt so much._

Bullets flew through the air, but they were aimed at their assailants, not her friends. A young girl with little braids in her long hair emerged from the treeline.

“Bellamy?” The girl asked, shocked. “Clarke knew you would come!”

“Clarke’s alive?” Bellamy asked, wide-eyed. The rest of them were stunned into silence.

“She’s in trouble. We have to go.”

Emori didn’t need to think twice about following the girl into the woods when she grabbed Bellamy’s hand and led them away. She probably should have been skeptical; afterall she had pulled more elaborate cons herself. But if the girl was trying to save Clarke, the one who had saved them all—Emori trusted her.

The girl said her name was Madi, and she’d been living with Clarke ever since Praimfaya. She didn’t say the word, but it was clear from how Madi talked about her that Clarke was her _nomon_. Emori smiled despite the dire situation. Only two people on Earth, and they’d made a family.

***

Clarke was being held prisoner. Bellamy didn’t even try to hide the tightening of his jaw and murder in his eye when Madi told them about that. Someone had to go save her, and Bellamy was the obvious choice. Echo was the strategic leader of the group, but Bellamy was the authority when it came to Clarke. There was no way he would let anyone else do it.

Echo formulated a plan to save Clarke, and they all sprang into action. Madi drove the rover to the village. Emori jumped out along with Echo, Harper, and Monty, leaving Bellamy to ride into the village with Madi. The group took position around the village, using rifle scopes to see what was going on inside. Emori’s heart sank when she spotted Clarke being tortured in the middle of a jeering crowd. She and Clarke may have had a rocky history, but Emori didn’t fault her for that. Both their lives were filled with impossible decisions.

She kept her scope trained on Clarke and the prisoners surrounding her as Madi pulled into the scene. She knew Bellamy stepped out of the rover only by the way everyone turned to stare. Emori couldn’t really see the details of Clarke’s face, but it absolutely radiated love and relief. _Poor Echo. She had just gotten up the nerve to ask Bellamy to be hers, and now his presumed-dead almost-girlfriend was right there in front of him, looking at him like he came back from space just to see her._

Emori couldn’t see it, ut she knew he was brandishing a ‘best dad in the universe’ mug like the bomb they all knew it was. _An ironic symbol, really._ Monty had told her about the early days when just the 100 was on the ground and they all called Bellamy ‘Dad’ when he wasn’t around to hear.

Echo’s plan went without a hitch. Emori followed Clarke’s path out of the village toward the Eligius ship with her scope, then Bellamy’s a while later after he talked to the leader of the prisoner group. She lowered her rifle and retreated to the meeting place her friends had agreed upon.

Madi was already there, waiting in the back of the rover. Emori lifted her hands high in a surrendering stance as she approached, not wanting to risk threatening Madi in case she didn’t recognize her.

Madi’s eyes flickered in recognition, and Emori thrust her right hand out for her. “ _Ai laik Emori kom Spacekru._ ”

Madi took her hand and shook it. “I’m Madi. I know all about you, Emori. Clarke told me everything she knows.”

Emori sat down on the back end of the rover next to Madi. “So she told you I’m _frikdreina_? That I’m a thief and a liar?”

“She told me all that, yeah-”

Emori scoffed. “Of course she did. I thought we were okay in the end, but Clarke never thought highly of me.”

“- _but_ ,” Madi waved her hands. “That’s not all she said about you. She said that you’re smart and you’re strong and the only one who could put up with Murphy’s bullshit. That the world was out to get you and it made you cold, but you have a good heart.”

Emori raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound much like Clarke.”

“How would you know? I’ve spent a lot more time with her than you have.”

Emori smiled. “Fair point.”

A rustling came from the bushes, and they turned to see Harper approaching them. “Hi, guys! What are you talking about?”

“ _Apparently_ ,” Emori said, “Clarke has been telling stories of all of us from before Praimfaya.”

“Ooh I want to hear everything! What did she say about me? I’m Harper, by the way.” She said it all in one breath.

Madi giggled. “I thought you’d be more of a badass, honestly.”

Harper opened her mouth wide in faux shock. “Hey, have you _seen_ me in action? I _am_ pretty badass.”

“That you are!” Monty appeared at the back of the rover with Echo a couple paces behind.

Echo’s eyes darted around the surrounding woods. “We need to go. If the plan goes south, they’ll come looking for us. The rover is a dead giveaway. We need to drive it where they won’t see.”

Madi nodded. “I know just the place. Come on, I’m driving.”

They got in the rover, Madi behind the wheel and Echo beside her. Harper was seated next to Emori in the back. She squeezed her hand. “How are you feeling?” she asked, softly enough to not carry to anyone else’s ears.

“Surprisingly fine, actually.” Emori bit her lip. “A little hungry. And I need to pee, I guess.”

Harper snorted. “You flew us down from space, were held at gunpoint, and threatened an army of criminals, _all while pregnant, might I add_ , and you’re fine?”

“Just another day on the ground, right? We’ve been through worse.” She patted Harper’s knee. All the doting on her was getting out of hand. She was pregnant, not dying. “Now stop fussing over me and figure out what you’re making for dinner.”

“Hey, if you feel fine, you get to do the hunting.”

Emori sighed good-heartedly. “If I didn’t, we’d all go hungry! None of you ever bothered to learn how to find food.”

Harper looked at her pointedly. “Yeah, guess we were too busy trying to save the world.”

Emori waved her hand in the air. “Excuses, excuses.”

Before Harper could shoot her a comeback, Madi pulled the rover into a cave, and they were swallowed in darkness. Madi opened her door and the others followed suit, hopping out of the rover.

Echo spoke first, always ready with a plan. “Madi, come with me. We’re going to watch the Eligius camp. Harper, Emori, find us some food. Monty, cover our tracks and make sure they don’t find us here. Does everyone have a knife?”

At their nods, she continued. “Okay. Great. Now, if something goes wrong and you need help, call out.” Echo demonstrated a quiet whistle. “But don’t give away our location for just anything.” She looked pointedly at each of them. “Emergencies only.”

They nodded again and got to work. Emori hunted while Harper collected edible plants from the area. Frustratingly, Emori’s hunting skills had dampened during their time on the Ring, but still she managed to catch two rabbits.

Harper was already in the bear cave when she returned, preparing a small fire to cook their food. Emori got to work readying the rabbits for the fire, skinning them and securing their bodies to a branch. Echo came back from watching the Eligius camp to grab food for herself and Madi. The three of them worked in comfortable silence until the food was done.

***

Emori was the first one awake the next morning. She snuck out of the cave where everyone was sleeping to empty her stomach in the bushes. That helped to soothe her nausea, so she felt well enough to set traps for small game in the area surrounding the cave.

When she got back to her friends, Madi stirred from her position curled up in the rover. “Emori? Where’d you go?” Her voice was fogged over with sleep.

“I was just setting up traps, Madi.”

“Oh, okay. Can we have berries for breakfast? There are some really good ones close by, they’re pink and sweet and they squirt when you bite them in half!”

Emori smiled. Madi was adorable. “Sure, yeah we can do that. Lead the way.” She motioned for the exit of the cave.

Madi teemed with excitement. She fumbled with putting on her boots and grabbing the knife from beside her along with a small wooden basket. She slipped from the rover and bounded to the cave entrance. “Come _on_!” she whisper-yelled, when Emori didn’t move to immediately follow her. Emori threw her head back in exaggerated annoyance and caught up to her.

On their way to the flower field, Emori took the opportunity to dig into Madi about her and Clarke’s life in Louwoda Kliron all these years. Madi told her about how the day she met Clarke was the best of her life—because it meant she wasn’t alone anymore.

It tugged at Emori’s heartstrings to hear of the early days, when neither knew what to do with each other. When Clarke drew a picture first of Madi, then of all her friends from before. How Madi was raised on lessons not from folktales, but of what Clarke and her friends had lived through.

“What’s your favorite part of living with Clarke?” Emori asked.

“Hmm. Her stories, I think. I like Octavia the best.” She paused. “But of course I love all of you! Just if I _had_ to pick a favorite.”

“I’d be offended, but I can’t argue that Octavia is objectively awesome.”

Madi seemed reassured at that. “Did you know her?”

“No, I didn’t. I met Octavia once, after Clarke took down ALIE. But that was only briefly.” She lifted her left hand. “I had to get out of Polis.”

“What do you mean, when _Clarke took down ALIE_? I thought that was Octavia and Murphy and Bellamy?”

“They were important, sure. But Clarke was the one who took the flame and the chip so she could go into the City of Light and kill ALIE herself.”

Madi halted and turned to Emori. “Clarke _did that?!_ ” Her voice grew louder. She’s always talking about how dangerous the flame is, and she took it herself?!”

_Guess honesty really wasn’t Clarke’s virtue_. “That’s why she knows it’s so dangerous.”

Madi resumed her pace toward the berry field, grumbling under her breath and dragging her feet. _Puberty sure is a bitch._

“So. What’s your _worst_ favorite part of living with Clarke?” It was a sick game, but she figured Madi would appreciate it.

“She’s so bossy!” Madi threw her hands in the air. “I’m not a little kid anymore but she treats me like I am!”

“I think that’s how mothers are supposed to be.”

“Clarke’s not my _nomon_.” _Sure._ “And anyway, how would you know? You don’t even have one.”

_Ouch. True, but ouch._ Emori and her friends didn’t exactly have a good track record with mothers. “Everyone knows _nomons_ are supposed to be bossy. Maybe you just didn’t know that because you never see any other ones. Clarke’s mom was the same way.”

“Yeah, and Clarke hated her mom!”

“That’s normal too.”

Madi dropped the subject. “There they are, the berries! Aren’t they beautiful?”

Emori looked out into the field before them. “Wow,” she said. “They’re beautiful, alright.”

Turns out the berries were delicious, too. They probably ate more of the juicy pink berries that morning than made it into the basket.

***

On Emori and Madi’s way back to the bear cave, there was a blast as the Eligius transport ship took off. But it didn’t go up to their main ship, to John and Raven. No, it curved laterally. Toward Polis.

“What does it mean?” Madi asked.

“It means it worked. They’re opening the bunker.”

Madi was elated. “Oh, good! We never could have done it without them. I’ll finally get to meet Octavia. And Clarke’s mom. And Indra, and Gaia, and Miller, and Jackson, and Kane, and- and everyone!”

Later, they watched as the ship returned. Monty saw Abby and Kane exit the ship through the scope of his gun. They couldn’t decide on what that meant. _Were they the leaders of the bunker group?_ Emori thought Octavia was supposed to be the leader, but a lot can change in six years.

The next morning, the transport ship went up again. This time, though, it went all the way up into space. Emori clutched Harper’s hand as they watched. It was so hard to see but not know what was going on. _Was the threat over? Did they go back to grab John and Raven and the rest of the prisoners?_ It didn’t seem likely. Not enough time had passed. They couldn’t have a truce yet. The camp wasn’t ready to support that many people. They wouldn’t be willing to risk it, not unless-

War. Emori gripped Harper’s hand tighter at the thought.

She spent the day trying to distract herself from the very real possibility of John and Raven being dead. She monitored the camp, checked and rechecked her traps, and picked Madi’s brain for information about the valley.

Madi showed her a book, handmade and filled with drawings. It was Clarke’s life before Madi, illustrated. Emori flipped through the pages in awe. She didn’t recognize a lot of the figures, but others were all too familiar: Bellamy, Raven, Monty, Harper, Echo, and John.

Nothing prepared her for seeing her own face in the book. She should have expected it, maybe, but she was still caught off guard. The Emori in the drawing was young. Scared and scarred and defeated, tied up to the rocket in Becca’s lab next to John.

Emori ran her hand over her former self, trapped forever in one of her darkest memories.

“I’m sorry,” Madi said. “About what happened to you.”

Emori placed a hand on her knee, reassuring. “You’re fine. It wasn’t your fault, Madi.”

“I just mean, you didn’t deserve it. Clarke knew that, even if she didn’t say it. She says she was privileged. That she made the decisions, and they always hurt people. Hurt _you_. I’m sorry for that.”

Emori shook her head. “I’ve hurt people too.”

Madi looked her straight in the eye. “And good guys aren’t always good, I know that. You’re definitely a good guy, though.”

***

Night had long since fallen when Echo sounded the bird-call-alarm. Emori ran to her, as quietly and swiftly as possible. Her heart pounded and her right hand grabbed for her knife. She hid her body behind a tree and peered out to see what was going on.

_John_. He was really there, in the flesh. _Wait. Where was Raven?_

Once Echo signaled for them to step forward, Emori immediately pounced on questioning him. John said Raven was still back at the transport ship. _It figures_ , she told herself. _Of course he’d only save himself_.

John told them that the prisoners were going to drop a missile on the people from the bunker, and after that it was a race against time. They hurried back to the bear cave and took off in the rover. Thankfully, it seemed the prisoners did not have an automobile, so there was little risk of being followed.

Emori took advantage of John’s captive audience in the rover to snark him as much as possible. _She was angry, okay? He deserved it anyway, acting as if he had a place in their family, like he hadn’t abandoned them just like he left Raven with the prisoners._

But then an electric shock jolted through John’s body, and Emori forgot all about how she was angry with him. “John!” Unthinkingly, she reached forward and grabbed his arm with her right hand. The shock surged through her too, and she fell back on her seat. Harper grabbed the hand from her, searching it for burns.

The cackle of electricity continued as Madi threw the rover into reverse. When it finally stopped, she slammed on the brakes.

Emori leaned forward, searching John’s face for signals. “John, can you hear me?”

He didn’t respond. _Please hear me please hear me please hear me._ His breathing was strained. His hand latched onto the door of the rover and pressed it open.

Monty spoke through her friends’ overlapping voices. “What are you doing?”

“What I have to do, okay? Echo’s right. Just leave me behind.”

Emori’s jaw dropped an inch in shock. _Since when did John sacrifice for the good of the group?_ He’d be hunted and more than likely killed out there.

“No way,” Monty said. “If it has a tether, it’ll have a tracker too. They’re probably on their way right now.”

“That means you gotta go.” Emori let her panicked gaze slide off of him, turn into something else entirely. _You shouldn’t care about him_ , she chided herself.

The door clicked open once more, and John hopped out with a labored grunt. He threw the door shut behind him. “Go. Before our friends explode.”

A split second decision had Emori clutching at her rifle and slipping out of the rover into the chilled air of the woods. _No way in hell would she let him leave her again._

When the rover drove away and the fog cleared, Emori got her first look at John’s face. It should’ve been difficult to read his expression, the slight scowl he wore when his eyes met hers. But she could read him like none other. He felt bare, abandoned by their friends even though he was the one who told them to leave. And when he processed that Emori was there with him, his eyes turned quizzical, as if to say: _Why would you stay with me? I don’t deserve it_.

He was right. She couldn’t believe herself. She sighed and threw her head back. “Come on.” She tilted her head in the direction she was going to walk, and started off without checking to see if John was following. She knew he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone!
> 
> This chapter is up a little earlier than previously planned by popular demand. I'm such a pushover haha. I hope you liked this update! Now that we're into the season 5 timeline, I'm bringing in canon events because of course they're important to the story here! Shout-out to Netflix for helping me to keep things canon compliant. My memory only serves me so far. I want to give another huge shout-out to my readers. It blows my mind that you come back day after day to read this.
> 
> What did you think of this chapter? Are you ready for Emori and Murphy to finally talk to each other? _I_ sure am.
> 
> -Mobi <3


	5. Truth Will Out

Emori stayed for him. She stayed for _him_. Murphy couldn’t believe his luck. He followed after her into the woods. _She always had to be in charge, didn’t she?_ It didn’t make him as annoyed as it probably should have.

She led him into a cave, a different one from where the rover had been parked. Murphy smirked to himself. _Caves always were their thing_. Emori motioned for him to sit, and he dutifully complied. She set her rifle on the ground and ghosted her fingers over his collar and the irritated skin on his neck. Murphy’s breath caught in his throat at her caring touch.

“Don’t touch it,” he warned. “It’s gonna burn us both.”

She bit her lip, concentrating on the collar. “I can get it off, I know I can. I just need to figure out _how_.”

“Don’t touch it, Emori. Seriously.”

She pouted, but ultimately left him be and moved to guard the cave entrance.

***

Three hours and four caves later, Murphy was exhausted. _How long could they keep up the cave hopping?_ Not long enough, most likely. This time when Emori pulled out her knife, he let her toy with the mechanics of his collar. It had been awhile since she had held a knife to his throat, and it scared him no less now than it had all those years ago but for an entirely different reason.

A burst of electricity jolted through him, knocking Emori back as well. He hated to see her suffer like that, and he convinced her to lay off touching his collar after that. She worked in silence mostly, as if she was trying to ignore that Murphy was even there. _She probably was_.

Emori decided she needed tools. And gloves. Murphy put as much sarcasm in his voice as he could muster. “Oh, great, then only one of us gets to be electrocuted. Awesome plan.” He hoped the sarcasm in his voice disguised his relief that she’d stop hurting herself.

They set off back into the woods, toward the Polaris rocket. Thankfully Emori knew her way around, because he was completely lost. She got to work immediately when they got there. She slipped a pair of gloves over her hands, perfectly tailored to her badass hand. Bellamy had probably made them for her, the sap.

It was probably a bad idea, but Murphy decided to ask Emori why she left him when she was pressing pliers to an electrical panel around his neck. _Idiot_.

“Because you broke my heart,” she told him, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She bent down to drop the pliers in a toolbox and fumble for something else to pick at his collar with.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“It’s complicated. I need a minute to think.” He couldn’t see her face, but she sounded on the verge of tears.

“Hell, you were the one who ended things with me, Emori. Remember that?”

She snapped around to face him. “After you pushed me away, again, and again, and again! ‘Til I had no choice.”

Murphy cut off the last part of her sentence. “That’s because you didn’t need me anymore.” She opened her mouth at that, clearly pissed. “You was always off with Raven doing your own thing.”

“So what!” she yelled at him. Then softer, “You were jealous?”

Murphy met her eyes, and they both paused for a second. Emori moved back to sit next to him, and she picked at his collar again. “When we were on the Ring, I was part of something bigger than myself. And I didn’t know I needed that, but I did. And you _punished_ me for it.”

_Shit. Yeah, she was right. Why had they never talked about all this before? Oh, right. Apparently resenting each other was better._

An idea dawned on Murphy. A bomb. Like Raven had made back in the dropship days, for the bridge. Emori was, of course, a genius, so she knew just how to make a bomb work for them, both technically and strategically. After she got his collar off, she ordered Murphy around to grab materials. She toyed with the tech, fashioning it into a hydrazine bomb. Emori rigged a timer to it with gunpowder from her rifle. _Genius_.

They made their way to a cave, which by some luck had two entrances. Emori used Murphy’s disconnected collar to lure the Eligius prisoners to the cave. She placed it in the dirt alongside the bomb she made Murphy carry.

They waited in anticipatory silence for twenty minutes. He watched one entrance and she the other, but Murphy couldn’t help himself from stealing glances at her. Emori looked so alive like this, preparing to blow people up. She squatted in the shadows, her eyes darting around the cave. She gave him the rifle to wield, and her hand lay right next to her knife holster.

They heard voices approaching the cave. Emori sprung into action and set the timer on the bomb. They retreated out the far side entrance to hide behind a fallen log and waited for the explosion.

Both of them jumped when the explosion sounded in the cave. Murphy ducked his head behind the log, and Emori steadied herself with heavy breaths. “All right,” Murphy said under his breath. _What happens next?_

He looked over at Emori, and she was already watching him. They stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments. _God, she was so beautiful like this, fighting for their lives._ It reminded him of their early days when they would steal from merchants on the road to Polis.

Murphy had to believe that look in her eye meant to her what it did to him, had to believe she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He pressed forward, closing the distance between them and claiming her lips with his own. She reciprocated, pushed her lips back against him. _Yes._ Murphy used his weight to turn her onto her back and press his body on top of hers, deepening the kiss.

_Of course that wasn’t enough control for Emori._ She spun them around quickly, breaking her lips from his to straddle his hips and press his collarbone down so he was lying flat on the ground. She brought her face down to his, close but not touching. “This doesn’t mean we’re back together.”

Murphy wished it did, would do anything to have the woman he loved back, but he didn’t let himself dwell on the fact. He would take whatever she was willing to give him. He strained up to her and she met him in the middle, starting up another kiss as hot and deep as the first.

She pulled at her sweatshirt, desperate to get the material off her body. He pushed up farther to chase her lips as she struggled with it. Once it was off, she pushed him back down again and sat up to pull at the hem of her shirt.

A strangled voice interrupted them “Murphy!”

Emori ducked back down beside him and took back her leg from over his hip. They both turned when the voice sounded out once more.

“That’s McCreary,” Murphy said. The prisoner crawled toward them and collapsed in the dirt. “I got it.”

She grabbed the rifle and followed Murphy to McCreary’s unconscious body. _That’s not what he meant, but whatever_. She crouched down to feel for a pulse. She must have found one, because she looked up to Murphy with a mix of glee and fear in her eyes. “We have a hostage.”

***

The hostage situation didn’t exactly go as expected. Diyoza refused to trade Raven for McCreary, which led to Murphy joining with him to go back to camp as his prisoner. _Oh, the things he’d do to save her_. He called for Emori to join him, but she must have been too far away from the cave to hear. It was unlike her to be so sloppy, but he knew she would catch up soon.

She caught them on the way to the camp, like he knew she would, pointing her rifle at McCreary’s head. _That’s his girl. Or, scratch that. Not his girl. Whatever._

Emori didn’t hide how stupid she thought his plan was, and it filled Murphy with a smug sense of pride that she went along with it anyway.

A second later, though, any pride he felt was overshadowed with dread. Emori told him that this is the way she fell in love with him, fighting to survive. That after the fight was over, he would fall apart again. _And she wouldn’t be there to pick up the pieces._ She didn’t say that, but he heard it all the same.

***

Night had fallen by the time they arrived at the Eligius camp. Murphy and Emori were thrust into a jeering crowd, the prisoners throwing their fists in the air at the excitement. Murphy hadn’t realized how intimidating this would be. He wanted to reach for Emori’s hand, but his restraints wouldn’t let him. _She probably wouldn’t have taken it, anyway_.

They were reunited with Raven and Echo, and Murphy could breathe again.

He took every opportunity to start shit in the Eligius camp. It was easy, really. Murphy whispered in peoples’ ears and slipped intel to the exact people it was being hidden from. Threw a rock in the middle of a crowd just to make them shoot at each other. As much as Emori protested, he knew she loved it. And _he_ loved the look on her face whenever he was up to something reckless. One part horrified, one part sexually excited. _Yeah,_ Murphy couldn’t complain about that.

Soon enough, he had caused enough trouble that Emori could slip everyone’s collars and they could escape to the woods. Murphy stayed back with Kane to get Abby. He had a soft spot for her and always had, ever since he was a kid and Abby looked after him through his sickness. _Too bad his dad couldn’t understand that antibiotics were no good against viral infections_. Abby was great, though, helped him to heal his body so he could rot in the sky box for years. He owed her for that.

Abby was caught up in the prisoners’ civil war, though. McCreary took her and there was no way to go up against him and his followers. Murphy and Kane had to settle for taking Diyoza instead. _At least she wasn’t as crazy as McCreary._ Murphy snorted to himself. _Barely. But she could be useful to them._

* * *

Emori found herself drawn to Diyoza. Not because she liked her—she definitely didn’t. It was because that could be _her_ , in a few months. _Just the pregnancy parts of it. Not the terrorist bits._

She watched the way Diyoza moved, the way she talked, trying to get any sort of information she could. Emori hadn’t exactly spent a lot of time around pregnant women before. The life of an outlaw didn't afford such a risk. Wastelanders used whatever means necessary to prevent pregnancies, or correct them if they did happen. And Emori never targeted families in her heists. Sure, some of the merchants she conned had families back home. But she never held a knife to a child, never made them watch as she knocked out their parents. Things never got so bad that she hurt a child.

Diyoza, for her part, saw straight through Emori and knew why she was watching her. She wore a knowing smirk whenever she caught Emori’s gaze, or when Emori’s stomach turned at the whiff of food.

It was surprising that John hadn’t figured out she was pregnant yet, given how his attention was always half trained on Emori. On the morning of the second day, she was hunched over and throwing up into the bushes when she heard John’s boots approaching from behind. She froze. _Had he seen her?_

“Hey Mori, you feeling okay?”

_Yep, he’d definitely seen her. Play it cool._ She turned around. “Dinner last night tasted off. We should never have let Kane cook.”

“Tell me about it.” John rolled his eyes. “You’re good though?”

“Yeah, I feel better now.” She smiled. “Just let me wash my mouth and we can go hunting.”

John grinned widely. He followed her to the stream, where she splashed water into her mouth. They hunted together, for the first time in years. Even after all this time, they still made a pretty good team. They were rewarded for their efforts with enough meat to feed everyone back at the cave.

Emori was content during her walk back with John, their catch hanging on a branch between them. “John-” she started. “-I’m sorry. For how everything went down. I act like it’s all on you, but that’s not the truth. It’s just hard to face the fact that if we had just talked to each other we could have saved ourselves a lot of pain.”

John looked over at her, softness written all over his face. “I’m sorry too. I never meant to break your heart. Hell, I didn’t even know I _could_ do that. You’re so strong, so good at everything. Good at being part of the family. I’m not a part of that. How could I tear you apart from that?” He laughed sadly. “I don’t deserve you, don’t deserve the power to break your heart.”

“You don’t get it, John, do you?” She searched his eyes. “Yes, family is important to me. But don’t think for one second that you’re not a part of that. Our family grew up there on the Ring, but it grew with you in there with all the rest of us. You belong with us. You’re family.” She was crying now. _Stupid hormones._

“You really mean that?”

“Shut up, John, of course I do.” She thought of the hours before Praimfaya hit, when he reassured her in the back of the rover on their way to the island. “Your home is with me, okay? Your home is with us. Your family.” A few tears sneaked down her cheeks. She wanted to reach out, to embrace him. But she didn’t, just kept on walking.

“Okay, Mori. I trust you.”

“Good. You know I’ve never lied in my life.”

John grinned back at her. “‘Course not.”

***

Echo spent all her time preparing for battle. They were in the woods for nearly a week, but it was as if she could do nothing else. She switched the topic of every conversation she was in, always bringing it around to the looming war.

On the fourth night, Echo was standing watch just outside while the others slept in the cave. Emori was restless. She couldn’t help herself from going out to talk to her.

Emori made sure to step just loudly enough that Echo would hear her approach but not wake anyone up. “Hey, Echo.” She spoke softly. “Is it cool if I hang out with you for a bit?”

“That’s fine.” Echo’s voice was distant.

They stood unspeaking for a minute. Emori finally broke the silence. “How are you, really?”

“I’m fine,” Echo said. “Why, is something wrong?”

“I just mean- about Bellamy. It’s okay if you’re worried about him.”

“I’m not worried about Bellamy. That makes no sense, he’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He doesn’t need me to rescue him.”

Emori wrapped her arm around Echo’s waist. “He doesn’t have to need saving for you to be worried about him. You’re apart for basically the first time in years. It’s okay to feel that.”

Echo was silent for a moment. “Clarke’s still in love with him, you know. Six years later and she’s still in love.”

“Really? I knew they were close, but-”

Echo dropped her voice and spoke her next words into the wind, almost inaudible. “I think Bellamy might still be in love with her too.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Emori brought her other arm around Echo, wrapping her in a firm hug. Echo didn’t say anything, just continued to look out into the darkness of the woods. “You’ll be together again soon. Things will make more sense then.”

Emori held her for a while longer, until Echo pushed her off. “Either go to sleep or take over my watch shift,” she said. “But we all know you need your rest.”

Emori rolled her eyes. “Now you sound like Harper.”

“Someone has to look after you while she’s away!”

***

The war came quickly. Echo was in constant contact with Bellamy over the radio, sharing intel and discussing battle strategies. Soon enough it was the morning Wonkru would be arriving in the valley, and Emori was crouching by the extinguished fire from the night before. John dipped his thumb in soot from the fire to rub on her forehead.

“It’s no use,” she tried to tell him, but allowed him to drag his thumb up from between her eyebrows, other fingers ghosting over the line of her scarf. “My tattoo is black too, you won’t even be able to see the line.”

He tsked. “Nonsense. You’re one of us, yeah? You need war paint.”

“Fine. But you need some too.” She ran her own finger through the soot on the ground. “Now hold still, I need to make you pretty.”

“And here I thought you already found me pretty.”

She stroked her finger up to the bridge of his nose and onto his forehead. “Nope!” She popped the P and laughed at her own joke. “Alright, maybe. But don’t let it go to your head.”

John smiled back at her. “I’m nothing if not humble.”

***

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind. Wonkru was slaughtered, ambushed on their way into the valley by McCreary and his followers. Emori thought she had successfully fixed the sonic gun they’d picked up during their scouting mission, but she’d failed. It turned into a bomb when John tried to use it to save Bellamy and the others where they were pinned down in the gorge.

By some miracle, they were all able to get out of there alive. John yelled in excitement, and Emori’s heart clenched in her chest. Being there with him, adrenaline still rushing through her veins from their triumph in the gorge, seeing him so exhilarated… in that moment, everything felt right.

***

They spent the night in the dead zone with Wonkru. Emori wasn’t sure why she did it, but when Madi revealed her plan for the next day, she volunteered to drive the rover back into the gorge and draw out the prisoners’ fire. Not a second later, John announced he’d man the rover’s gatling gun on the passenger side. _Always playing the hero_. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t like it.

She was ready to drive into the warzone, only the thought of leading her family home pressing on her mind. Bellamy taught her the basics of how to drive the rover. It was simple, really, easier than her old boat ever was.

Emori drove into the gorge. She grit her teeth, eyes focused on the path in front of her. Everything was pinned down to this moment. John was at her side, clutching the built-in gatling gun like a shield, though he’d been instructed not to fire it yet.

Gunfire broke out all around them. All aimed at them. Before they’d even gotten all the way into the gorge, the rover broke down. Emori veered it to the edge of the gorge before the wheels stilled.

“They got the engine. Damn it!” She slammed her hands on the steering wheel in frustration. “John, get away from the windshield!” She forced her body in between their seats to get to the relative safety of the back.

John followed her back. “Be heroes!” he yelled to Bellamy and Echo, who nodded and thrust their way out the back door to shoot the snipers off the ridge.

Bellamy needed to get closer, and John volunteered to cover him.

“John? John, You’ll get hit!” She chased him up the rover. He threw himself back into the front and grabbed the gun.

John groaned in pain as he fired at the enemy. As soon as Bellamy gave the signal and John took his hands off the gun, Emori grabbed him in her arms and pulled him back to her. He groaned louder and yelled in agony, clutching at his right shoulder. Emori strained under his weight, but was able to pull him into the back of the rover.

She vaguely registered the war cry of _gyon op!_ as the Wonkru army charged the prisoners, but all Emori’s focus was pulled to the man in her lap. He was clutching at his shoulder, and she pulled his hand away to reveal the bloodied fabric of his jacket. She pressed his hand down flat on it to hold the blood in. “Oh, John.” Her voice shook. “You’re gonna be okay. Stay with me, it’s not too bad a hit. You’re gonna be just fine.”

The army continued on, passing them in the rover. Emori stayed with John, murmuring affirmations into his ear and rubbing circles on his forehead with her thumb. Harper and Monty came to collect the wounded, and Emori yelled out for them to help her move John. Thankfully he could still kind of walk, so once he was out of the rover Emori propped him up and helped him to walk into the valley with the rest of the wounded. It was an awkward position with her shorter stature, but they managed.

Just when she thought they were going to make it, a siren echoed across the valley and Raven’s voice sounded through distant speakers. “Everyone, listen up. Life as we know it is about to end. Again. Get your asses to the transport ship now for immediate evacuation.”

John couldn’t walk anymore. “Wait, wait, wait, stop a second,” he said, slouching against a tree and throwing his head back on the trunk. He dragged Emori down with him, and she crouched in front of him.

Raven said they had nine minutes. _Nine_. Niylah crouched down next to Emori. “He won’t make it,” she told her frankly and stood up. “We have to go without him.”

Emori stood up with her. _Like hell was that going to happen._ Her eyes darted around as the others pushed forward, looking for anything or anyone to help take John to the transport ship. Finding nothing, she knelt back down beside him

“She’s right,” he said. “Just go on. It’s too far. There’s not enough time.”

_No, she needed him too much. She loved him too much. Jok, she still loved him. Probably never stopped. If he was gonna die, she was gonna go along with him._ “Then I guess we’re both gonna die, because there’s no way in hell I can leave the man I love behind.”

John shook his head. “Look, I’m not gonna do that to you, Emori. I can’t run.”

Her voice was but a whisper. “Yes you can.” _Be stubborn a little longer, John._

He really couldn’t. But then Monty was folding him over his shoulders with a pained war cry and John was screaming out as Monty carried him.

Emori couldn’t do anything to help. She kept pace with them, soothing John’s arm with her unmarred hand. An automated voice counted down the minutes to impact, and it drove Emori frantic. _She couldn’t lose him now. She couldn’t. Not now, not ever. They had to make it._ All she had to hold onto was the feeling of John’s arm under her hand and that the ship hadn’t taken off yet. Nothing else mattered.

Once it hit half a minute to impact, the voice started counting down the seconds. Monty pushed himself even harder. At twenty seconds, they spotted Bellamy from outside the transport ship. He ran to help them. Monty slid John off his shoulders and Bellamy inserted himself under John’s injured shoulder to prop him up between himself and Monty as they ran.

Emori could have ran ahead of them, could have reached the ship first and known she was safe. But the thought didn’t even cross her mind. All that mattered was bringing John to safety.

She kept pace with them, holding onto Monty’s back and using all her power to will them forward. Clarke was just inside the ship, waiting for them with her hand on the lever to pull the door closed.

Somehow, they made it. All the people Emori cared about made it to the safety of the Eligius transport ship. Almost as soon as they were inside, the engines fired and they rocketed upwards. She held onto John, as he passed out in her lap. _There was no way she could ever let him go._

* * *

Murphy woke up disoriented, lying on a cot in a metal room.

“John?” Emori picked her head up from where it lay beside his left hip. He registered the feeling of her hand in his. It was warm, comfortable. She had probably been holding on for awhile. There was no one else in the room, just them and some medical supplies. “Jackson got both bullets out. He’s with other patients now, but he said you’re gonna be okay.” She smiled. “I told you so.”

“Is that so? Guess you were always that smart.”

She ignored him, dragging the fingers on her free hand up and down his arm. “You really scared me back there, John. I thought I was going to lose you.” Tears formed in her eyes, and she shook her head. “I never want to lose you.”

Murphy squeezed her hand in his. “I’m right here, Mori. Like you said, I’m gonna be okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

Emori breathed in deeply. “John-” She sighed. “-I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

_Shit. What could it be now?_

She pressed on. “You know that time, on the Ring, when I came to visit you on your side?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, well-” her breath hitched. “ _Jok_ , this is hard.”

Murphy lifted his hand from hers to wipe the tears off her cheek. “What is it?”

She swallowed carefully. “John, I- I’m pregnant.”

He froze. _Did he hear that right? How was that even possible?_

She looked down at him, and he could see the honesty in her eyes. How it happened didn’t matter. She looked at him with such vulnerability and fear, he knew it was true. They were gonna have a baby.

“Emori-” He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to his chest. “-Oh my god, _Emori_.”

She buried her face in him. He pressed his lips to the top of her head. For a moment he couldn’t say anything, just held her to him as he tried to process what this all meant. _How could they have a baby? What would that life even look like?_

Murphy brought his hand to Emori’s head, tipping it up so she was looking at him. Her cheeks were blotched with tears again, and he rubbed them away with his thumb. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah?” Her voice was barely a squeak, heavy with tears.

“Yeah. Always. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay. This can be a good thing.” He didn’t know how, but they were gonna make this work.

Emori nodded, bringing her face to hover above his. She glanced down to his lips, just inches below her own, before meeting his gaze. “I love you too, John.”

He strained his neck up, just the slightest bit, and she took the hint. Emori crashed her lips down onto his, pouring all her love into a kiss. She brought her hands up to cup his cheeks, and he brought his one usable hand to press at the back of her head.

She was still crying a little bit, and _god_ , now he was too. Their tears mixed between them as they kissed. Her lips were so soft, so perfect against his. He craved her whole being, couldn’t imagine letting her go.

He pulled her away from him, just enough that he could get the words out. “Can this mean we’re back together?” _Please say yes._ He couldn’t fathom letting her leave him again.

“Yeah, John.” She laughed, rubbing the side of her nose against his as she nodded. “Yeah, we can be back together.”

“Good.” He reclaimed her lips with his and kissed her fervently until a knock sounded at the door behind her.

Emori lifted off him, sitting up straight in her chair. “Come in!”

The door opened, and Jackson entered the room with a smile on his face. “Oh! Am I interrupting something?”

“A little bit, yeah,” Murphy admitted, at the same time Emori said, “You’re fine, what’s up?”

Jackson looked confused, but he came in anyway. He checked Murphy’s gunshot wounds and slipped a sling over his uninjured shoulder to hold his fragile arm. Satisfied with his handiwork, he told Murphy he was free to move around, so long as he took it easy and came back the next day to recheck his wounds. Jackson turned back to them on his way out the door. “Oh yeah. You both are needed in the bridge, something about deciding the fate of humanity. Shaw’s here to take you.”

“Goody,” Murphy deadpanned. “Yet another crisis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeeeyyyyyy!
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter! Sure did squeeze a whole lot of canon content in here, oofta! We finally got some communication between our lovelies, and I am _ready_ for them to figure all their shit out as we move forward into the second half of this story. What do you think of Emori's decision to tell Murphy about the pregnancy when she did? How do you feel about them getting back together? (obviously we knew it would happen but _still_ ) What do you hope for in the rest of this fic?
> 
> Okay now I need to go eat dinner (yes it is 1:30 in the morning but I am not a normally functioning adult). I hope you have a great day!
> 
> -Mobi <3


	6. Baptism of Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a wild ride, guys. Buckle up!

Emori leaned over Murphy’s bottom row cryopod. “Sweet dreams, John.” She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “I’ll see you in ten years.”

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I know.” She smiled. “And I love you too. Don’t worry, it won’t feel like ten years.”

John nodded, and she stood up to initiate the cryo sequence. Soon the pod pulled him into the wall and frosted over. She laid her hand on the glass.

“Emori, a little help?”

She spun around to face Raven. She was trying to organize Wonkru into cryopods, struggling to convince them it was safe and actually better than starving, _thank you very much_.

Emori laughed. “Yeah, I got it!”

They worked together to wrangle everyone and enter their information into the computers. Speaking in Trig seemed to help. Wonkru was wary of outsiders, the ‘enemies of Wonkru’ as they called them. But Emori and Raven almost _were_ them. Would have been if things had gone differently pre-Praimfaya.

It was slow going, but eventually all of Wonkru was settled into their pods. Emori laid in her own, right above John. She turned to Harper, who was launching her program. “Harper?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“You okay?”

“I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m scared.” She laughed at her own stupidity. “Thank you for being here for me.”

Harper squeezed Emori’s shoulder. “That’s what family is for, right?”

“Right. But thanks anyway.” _Family. Emori had a family._ The pod slid into the wall, and the glass came down to cover her. She was frozen in time, a soft smile on her face.

***

The next moment, her cryo pod opened again. Emori’s eyes shot open and she turned to see what went wrong with her program to wake her up so soon.

But where Harper was supposed to be, it was Bellamy. “Good morning,” he said. “We have a lot to talk about.” He offered Emori a hand and helped her down from the pod, still dazed and disoriented.

Her feet hit the hard floor, and she looked back up at him. “How long has it been?” It was beginning to feel like she had been in cryo for more than a second.

Bellamy rubbed the back of his neck. “Longer than ten years, that’s for sure. We’ll go over it all together once everyone’s awake.”

Emori nodded. _Okay, this is fine. Bellamy doesn’t seem too freaked out. This is fine._

John’s pod came out of the wall, then, and Emori turned to greet him when he awoke.

***

They’d been on Planet Alpha for all of ten minutes when they stumbled upon a lake.

“We camp here,” Bellamy declared.

Emori stopped to stare, taking in the scenery. The land beyond the water was covered with green and orange trees. A mountain range peaked out from behind them, the highest points covered in snow. A gas giant hung close on the horizon, and two suns eclipsed in a soft red haze. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see John smiling at her with the same awe she had for their surroundings.

But then he was stepping forward, shrugging off his gun and backpack with a grunt. He stripped out of his shirt and jacket, ignoring Jackson’s warnings, and dove into the lake. Fresh bullet wounds and all. Sometimes Emori couldn’t believe how much of a reckless idiot he was.

Emori was drawn closer to the water’s edge. Hadn’t he been under for too long? John had always been nervous to go without breathing for more than a couple seconds.

“Come on in, the water’s fine!” he called to her when he emerged, flicking his wet hair so it stood up straight on his head. _That was her John, alright._

Emori laughed. “Oh, who knew cockroaches could swim?”

“What, you want me to teach you?” He waded toward her. She had actually been the one to teach him, years ago.

“No.” He grabbed her hand. “John, no.”

“Oh, you’re coming with me,” he said, dragging her deeper into the unknown water.

“I’m serious. John! Let me go.” Emori struggled, but they both knew she didn’t really mean it because she was laughing all the way. “John!” He tipped her off balance and they both fell sideways into the lake with a splash.

John stood back up and let out a whoop.

Emori turned around to face him. “Big trouble,” she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and tugging him toward her. “Big trouble!”

They laughed and yelled. It was easy to get caught up in the moment, John’s arms wrapped around her waist, playing in the water of a beautiful lake of a beautiful new world. Emori tipped her head up and pulled him down to kiss her. They were both smiling too much and their teeth clacked together, but it felt good. Really good.

When she pulled away, John called out to their friends. “Come on in! The lake’s too big for just the two of us.” That was all it took to get the rest of them to shed their outer layers and run into the water.

Except Jackson, that is. He took a little more coaxing.

***

They spent the rest of the day at the beach. With her eyes closed, Planet Alpha felt just like Earth. The bugs chirped the same kind of song and the wind bit the same at Emori’s skin. She wished she had taken at least her sweatshirt off before running into the lake. It took all day to dry off completely.

When night fell, they settled around a fire. Emori cuddled into John’s side against a log, and he lay his uninjured arm lazily over her shoulder.

Coming down from the euphoria of being on the new planet, the darkness of what had just happened crept up on the group. Bellamy broke the silence they’d fallen into after finishing their meal. “Monty and Harper are gone. Really gone.” Echo squeezed his arm.

Clarke said something about doing better here, and Emori tuned her out. _Easy for her to say. She was the last one to mess up_. _Harper and Monty were good. They ‘did better’ every day of their lives._

Emori spoke softly, just for John’s ears. “How could they leave us?” She knew it was selfish, but she didn’t really care.

He shrugged. “They chose peace. And because of them, we get to be here. They found us a home.”

“Yeah, I know.” Emori sighed. “But we need them. How are we gonna do this without them? They always knew what to do.”

“Somehow I think we’ll manage. We have you.”

“I’m being serious, John. I can’t even manage being pregnant without Harper helping every step of the way. How are we gonna do all this?” She gestured vaguely.

John smirked. “Simple. You have me now.” _It’s not that easy, John._

“Asshole.” She lay her head back. “They did it all without us. Jordan is what, twenty six? And they didn’t even bother to leave parenting advice in their videos.”

“You’re seriously mad about _that_?” Emori shot him a look, and he relented. “Okay, okay, I just mean- they had a good life. I’m happy for them. But I get that you feel abandoned, Mori, I do. They left without saying goodbye.”

“Is it weird that I miss them already?”

“Nah, you haven’t seen them in a hundred twenty five years. If anything, you should be over it by now.”

Emori laughed, and they fell into silence watching the fire crackle.

A lump formed in her throat, and she had to say what was on her mind. “You really aren’t mad at me, John? For getting pregnant?”

“How could I be mad at you for that?” He sounded genuinely confused, and it warmed her heart. “I was kinda there too, you know.”

“A baby changes everything. And what if-” Her breath hitched. “-what if it turns out like me?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s kind of what I’m hoping for. If it turns out half as smart as you, half as courageous and soft and strong? That would be perfect.”

Emori rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I mean. What if it’s _frikdreina_ , like me?” She lifted her left hand to gesticulate, as if he could have forgotten she had it after six years together.

John grabbed the hand in his and held it to his chest. “Hey, don’t say that. Not about yourself and not about our baby either.”

“I was never meant to reproduce, John. I’m a stain on the bloodline.”

“Says who, the people who pray to garbage and make children fight to the death to become their god? Yeah, I don’t really care what they think.”

She stared at her hand against his chest. “Do you care what _anyone_ thinks?”

“Except for you? Not really, no.”

Emori’s heart thrummed in her chest. John’s hand let go of hers, and they turned to the stars, pointing and making up constellations to explain them. It reminded her of their first days together, back on Earth, and of the good times on the Ring. Wherever they were, the stars always connected them.

***

Everything pretty much went to shit after that. The bugs swarmed. They attacked Emori when she fell in the brush. Shaw died quickly at a radiation fence, and Bellamy led a burial for him after Clarke let the rest of them through safely.

They made their way up a winding path toward the Eligius III rescue beacon the next morning. Emori felt off-kilter, but she chalked it up to weariness. She hadn’t gotten much sleep lately.

Later, it was obvious to her that she had been deluded when she stabbed John. But in the moment, it felt perfectly natural that he was evil and needed to die. Her friends didn’t understand, not like she did. He had to be stopped. She couldn’t let him hurt anyone else.

The toxin wore off gradually. When she first woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom with Echo chained to the opposite wall, it was in full control. She seethed, lashing out at her friend and trying to humiliate her since she couldn’t reach her physically.

Some time later, though, after Echo had tranquilized herself and Emori was left to her own thoughts, she sobered and realized the terror of what she had done to John.

The weight of what she had done smothered her. She couldn’t breathe. _What if she had killed him? What if she had made him afraid of her, if he’d never be able to look at her again without remembering the way she raged, the feeling of her plunging a knife into his shoulder?_ She couldn’t live with herself if she had hurt him like that. Couldn’t live with herself if she was a monster.

Emori didn’t know about the toxin, not then. She had no idea how she could have done something that terrible.

Muffled voices from outside pulled her from her thoughts. It sounded like a crowd. Emori strained to hear their words, but they were too far away. Bellamy came to unchain her and Echo, who was still passed out.

He walked them to a tavern, where they’d been assigned to stay until further notice. A crowd of strangers watched their every move. She was thankful she had the mind to keep her glove on.

“Emori.” Bellamy placed his hands on her shoulders when they reached the door of the tavern. “Most importantly, John’s alive.” Her eyes widened. “But he’s not doing very well. It’s not your fault, there’s poison in the seaweed. And it’s not your fault you stabbed him, either. The red sun toxin was in the air. Apparently the plants give it off whenever the suns eclipse, it makes people hurt each other. Anyway-” He breathed deeply. “-John is unconscious. His heart stopped. They gave him medicine to counteract the poison and bring him back. Abby is monitoring him. She says he’s gonna be o-”

Emori cut him off, slamming open the door to the tavern. John was there, lying across a long table. He looked so vulnerable. So lifeless. She ran to his side and looked over his wounds. Her friends were all there, looking upon her sadly. Abby tried to explain what had happened, but Emori’s mind was too fuzzy to understand her words.

She sat vigil above him. All around her, people bustled about. But all Emori could do was watch over John and pray he’d wake up and be okay.

* * *

Murphy was plunged into darkness. An unquenchable fire consumed him. It burned him from the outside in, from the inside out. The fire, the blazing furnace, burned in black. He was blind to everything: past, present, future. All around him was weeping and gnashing of teeth. He was chained in darkness, burned alive, submerged in a fiery lake. Shut out from light and love and all things holy.

Murphy awoke with a pained scream. His body lurched upward into the air and his chest flew forward. He had no idea where he was, no recollection of this place. The flame reverberated through his mind, gone yet burning him alive.

“Hey.” Someone was trying to calm him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to see her. _Emori._

He panicked. Threw himself away from her, onto the floor, backed away like a feral animal. He couldn’t let her hurt him, not again.

Emori followed him onto the floor. “Hey, you’re okay. John, John, the toxin’s gone! It’s gone. Everyone’s okay.”

“We all made it, thanks to you,” Clarke told him.

Murphy couldn’t meet their eyes. _Liars_. “No, I didn’t. I died, didn’t I?” He knew he had. There was no other explanation for what he’d been through. It had to be Hell.

Emori and Clarke froze. Abby peered down at him. “Your heart _did_ stop. But the people here revived you.”

“I saw something.” _More like didn’t see something, really._ “I f-” He hung his head. “-I felt something.”

“Hey, John-” Emori held his face in her hands. “Look at me. Talk to me.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to Hell.”

“John…” She couldn’t find the words to console him, pulled him into her chest in a firm hug. He stared off into space, unable to be comforted by Emori’s embrace. How could he go on, knowing all that was waiting for him on the other side of death was an eternal fire? It was too much, too fresh, too real.

She held him for as long as he needed, whispered sweet nothings into his ear as his body cooled with residual quakes from his torment. They were sitting in the middle of the floor, but no one bothered them to move out of the way. _Good thing, too, or they’d have Emori’s knife coming for them_. She was in full protector mode, and her shelter quelled something inside him. The thing that wanted to attack, or the thing that wanted to run. Maybe both at the same time.

Now, Murphy was able to fully appreciate just how wrecked his body was. It hurt like a _bitch_. His bullet wounds were still sore, joined with a sharp sting on his opposite shoulder where Emori had dug her knife into him, and a full body fatigue that made him want to sleep for a whole week.

When his racing pulse had long since returned to normal and he finally felt okay, Murphy unwrapped Emori’s arms from around his body and landed a chaste kiss on her cheek. “I need a drink,” he said, groaning as he stood up.

“I’m on it!” The girl behind the bar was much too chipper, but she meant well. “You’re gonna love this.” She poured a brown fluid into a rocks glass and slid it across to him.

Murphy sat down, grunting his thanks. Emori slid onto the stool to his right. The barmaid offered her a drink as well, but she opted for a nonalcoholic juice instead.

“Oh, where are my manners?” The barmaid startled herself. “I’m Delilah. This is the tavern, I live upstairs. And this-” She smiled and gestured widely “-well _this_ is Sanctum. Welcome.”

Murphy raised his glass. “Nice to meet you, Delilah.” He tipped his head back and downed his drink in one pull. “Another. Please.”

***

Sometime before the suns rose, Murphy awoke in a panic. The fire consumed him, even in his waking state. _Death? Hell? A fucking baby?_ He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do any of it. Murphy couldn’t lie to himself anymore: he was a trash person and everyone knew it. He’d told himself he could handle things, but he couldn’t. All he’d ever done was screw things up for the people he loved.

Murphy spared a glance to Emori’s sleeping form beside him. It was hard to see much in the dim lighting, but he could just barely make out the crease in her brow as she slept. He didn’t deserve her. _How had he convinced her to be with him?_ Murphy was good at manipulating people to get what he wanted. That must be what it was: he had manipulated Emori into loving him. _She deserved better._

But whatever he did, Murphy was going to hurt her. He’d hurt her by trying and failing to be everything she deserved. Until she eventually realized it and left him again, more broken than the first time. Or he’d hurt her by leaving, by telling her he had to go. Murphy had blinded Emori to his demons. She thought she knew them, maybe, but she didn’t. She couldn’t see how fucked up he was.

He had to run, had to get out of this death trap of a city. He was trapped here, closed in between the people and the walls and the radioactive fence. It was suffocating him.

Murphy turned away from Emori and slipped out of bed. She’d miss him, probably, but he needed to get away. He descended into the tavern, past a half awake Bellamy. Murphy told him he’d be going to the transport ship. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. _What did it matter?_ No one needed him here.

Once he got out of Sanctum, Murphy broke out into a run. Or, at least, he tried to run, but his chest screamed and his shoulders cried and all he could keep up was a walk. He was too dizzy to run, anyway.

He didn’t have time to plan, or at least the mind for it. He couldn’t breathe. Maybe running away wouldn’t solve his problems, but it’s all he could think to do to dull the pain.

The fields were expansive. Beautiful. Serene. Murphy couldn’t go beyond them, wouldn’t risk everyone inside by taking down the shield. What he could do was walk into the rising suns, pass out among the grains, and wish for a gentle release.

***

“John? John? John!” A voice called out for him, frantic. _Emori_.

“Go away!” he managed to yell back at her.

She only ran closer at his voice. “John, oh my god, _John_.” She crouched at his side. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

Emori tilted her head. “It doesn’t seem like nothing. Come on, let’s go inside. The transport ship isn’t far.”

She practically had to drag him from the field. Murphy’s body drooped and everything in him stung and he couldn’t _fucking_ do it, couldn’t do anything. He didn’t know what he wanted. Everything was wrong, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

They reached the transport ship, which Raven had placed neatly in an empty patch between crops. Emori led Murphy inside and pulled the lever at the door.

The door thudded shut behind them. Murphy threw his back against it and slid down until he was sitting in a ball. He wrapped his arms around his legs as the shaking sobs overtook him.

Emori slid down next to him. She pulled him down so his head was in her lap, her hand stroking through his hair. Eventually his sobs subsided to hiccups and he could hear her words.

“John, please. Talk to me.” Her lip quivered.

“There’s nothing to say.”

“You know that’s not true. I never know what’s going on with you. I can’t help you—can’t help _us_ —when you won’t talk to me.”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Tell me how you’re feeling, what you’re thinking. Like back on the Ring, when I was spending so much time working with Raven and you were jealous? You could have said something then. We could have worked it out.” Emori let her hand fall out of his hair. “But instead you pushed me away, refused to let me know what was going on with you.”

“It was wrong of me to feel that way.”

“So _what?_ ” Emori shook her head. “I don’t care how you’re supposed to feel, just how you actually do. If we had just communicated, we could have avoided a whole lot of pain. That’s on me too, I know that.” She bit her lip. “But I don’t want it to happen again. Please,” she pleaded, “please just talk to me.”

Murphy pried himself off of Emori so he was sitting beside her again.

He took in a steady breath. “Okay. That’s fair. Right now, I’m feeling a lot of things.” He chuckled nervously, a couple stray tears falling down his cheeks. “Mostly I’m just scared. I don’t want to die, Emori. I don’t wanna die, don’t wanna go back to Hell.”

“Oh, John…” She laced her hand in his hair and shuffled to pull him down to rest against her chest.

“And I know it’s not fair to you, but I’m terrified of having a baby. No one deserves me as a father. It would be better for me to just be gone completely.” He sighed.

Emori gripped him harder. “No way in _hell_ are you leaving us. Don’t even think about it for a second. That’s not how you do the right thing. Having you—that’s everything. I need you here with me.”

 _Murphy was… needed?_ It made no sense. Emori didn’t need him like he needed her. “That’s just it! What if I lose you, Mori? What if something happens to you, what if you die? I don’t know how to live without you. And what if something happens to both of us? What if we leave our baby an orphan? That’s fucking terrifying.”

Emori tipped her head to rest on his. “John, I’m terrified too!” She laughed. “I have no idea what I’m doing. Harper had to tell me everything. I didn’t even know I could _get_ pregnant. Thought that since you were Skaikru it was impossible…” She paused. “Guess that wasn’t the case.”

Murphy lifted off her chest to look at her, horrified. “Shit, I didn’t think-”

“Neither of us was thinking. It’s okay, John. It’s not just your fault. We’re in this together, okay? We’re gonna be okay.”

He nodded, absentmindedly rubbing her still flat belly. She was everything. He’d always loved her, would always love her. “Yeah, we’re gonna be just fine.” It didn’t feel like it, but maybe it would be true if he believed it hard enough.

***

They spent most of the day in bed. There was exactly one bed on the transport ship, and it wasn’t really big enough for two. They made it work, though, cuddling into each other to avoid falling off the tiny bed. Murphy didn’t mind one bit. He wanted Emori as close as he could get her, for as long as she’d let him. Maybe he didn’t deserve her, but he had her. And she wanted him too.

When they weren’t sleeping, they were talking. Separated from their friends like this, it was easier to talk about the hard things. Why they had broken up and where they’d gone wrong. How they were gonna be different this time, do better.

They talked about Emori’s pregnancy and what they were going to do, how they were going to stay safe. She was adamant that they couldn’t let the Sanctumites know, not until they had to. Their position in Sanctum was fragile. They couldn’t show vulnerability. Murphy agreed with her plan. It was a little insecure, maybe, but he’d been burned before.

Sometime in the early afternoon, they got up to eat. It was all completely unfamiliar to Murphy, vegetables and grains native to the planet. Whatever it was, the food was so much better than algae. He wouldn’t be taking that for granted anytime soon.

Emori dragged the bed below a window. Even lying down, they could see out into the expanses of farm field that surrounded Sanctum. Murphy was pressed up next to the window, Emori on her side facing him with her badass hand on his bare chest. She traced the faded scars that ran across his torso with her melded fingers as they talked.

Evening fell and the suns hung low in the sky. They bathed Emori in a soft orange glow. Looking at her, Murphy almost forgot to breathe. He still couldn’t believe he got to have this, that she was here and she loved him back.

Emori’s hand was still tracing the scars on his chest. She paused when she reached a fresh one, the narrow slash under the left side of his collarbone. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I would never want to hurt you.”

“That was the toxin, Emori. Not you. It wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

She smiled shyly. “Yeah, I know.” Her hand avoided the fresh cut, traced a circle around it instead. “I still want to make it up to you, though. Is that okay?” Her hand traveled down his chest and across his stomach, pausing at the waistband of his pants and sending little waves of anticipation through his body.

“You don’t have to do anything. I don’t blame you,” he said. At her hopeful glance, he amended. “But if you want to, yeah, I’m not gonna stop you.”

Emori grinned. “Good.” Her merged fingers danced along the line of his waistband before grabbing at the buckle and sliding the zipper down. She pressed a hand inside, palming him through his underwear. She leaned up to kiss him, parted his lips with her tongue to lick inside his mouth.

He groaned into the kiss. _It had been too long._ His body was on high alert, thrumming even though she’d hardly touched him.

Emori pulled away, enough to drag his pants and underwear down and push them off with her foot. She threw a leg over him to straddle his hips and leaned down to him. Her hair waterfalled around their heads and she kissed him again, nipping his lower lip with her teeth.

She kissed a line up his jaw, stopping at his ear. “Lay back and relax, John. We can’t have you hurting yourself.” This woman was gonna be the _damn death of him._

Emori slipped down his body, nipping at his skin as she went. He watched her all the way, caught up in her perfection. She paused for a moment when she reached the apex of his thighs, taking in the sight of his growing length. She looked up at him, eyelashes fluttering just the slightest bit. A question.

“Please.”

She wasted no time, licking a steady line up the underside of his cock. She licked him all over, covering him in her spit. Her tongue drew a spiral around the tip while her right hand pumped at the base. Murphy fisted the blankets in his hands.

She drew the length of him fully into her mouth and hollowed her cheeks to suck at him.

“ _Fuck_ , Mori, yeah, just like that.” He lifted a hand from the sheets and brought it to her head. He ran his fingers through her hair, careful not to press down and risk choking her.

That spurred her on. She pressed down farther, sucked a little harder, sped up the motions with her right hand. Her badass one gripped his hip, hard enough he thought she might leave a bruise. Part of him hoped she would. He didn’t want her to stop.

It wasn’t long before he was close. He pulled at Emori’s hair, just enough to get her to come up for air and flit her eyes up to meet his.

“Did I do bad?” she asked hesitantly.

“God no, Mori. I’m gonna come if you don’t stop, and I wanna, can we...”

All hesitation was erased from her face as she grinned. “Yeah, absolutely we can.” She pulled her pants and panties off in one deft motion and shifted to straddle his hips, hovering just above him. She reached across her chest to lift her shirt off her body and drop it next to the bed. _Fucking finally, she was naked._

Murphy strained up, but Emori pressed him back down into the bed by the clavicle. “You’re supposed to rest, remember? Let me.”

He groaned at her resolve. She leaned in to kiss him again, and he grabbed at her hair to hold her to him. He couldn’t get enough of her.

Emori didn’t fight him when he ran a hand up her thigh to tease at her entrance, spreading her wetness up and down her slippery folds. Unable to help himself, he plunged his fingers into her to press at her g-spot. She moaned above him, ground down on his fingers as his thumb played with her clit.

Murphy could do this forever, but Emori was impatient. She lifted her face from his and grabbed his hand from between her thighs, brought it up to his mouth. Murphy opened readily for her, moaning around her taste on his fingers.

She grinned, rubbing her sweet juices up and down his length. That had him right back to the edge, ready to come. Her badass hand pressed into the middle of his chest, between his wounds. The other reached between her legs and grabbed hold of his cock. He couldn’t take much more, and she knew it. She sank down, enveloping him in her tight heat all the way down to the base before pulling up and grinding down again. He groaned, grabbing at her hips with both hands and encouraging her movements.

Soon, Emori was bouncing on him, and his hips were bucking up to drive just that much deeper into her. He grabbed one bouncing breast then moved to the other, rolling the nipples between his fingers and making her gasp.

He was getting close, and _god_ , he hoped he could hold off long enough to make her come on his cock. Emori was doing this all for him, wasn’t even chasing her own release. He moved his hand from her breast to rub at her clit, and used the one at her hip to twist her down on him. He came, unable to stop himself, shooting his come right up into her. _They were gonna have to be more careful, after the baby came_. But she was already pregnant, there was no need to start now.

Emori followed soon after. Her pussy fluttered around him with a moan that sounded more like a scream. After a second to catch her breath, she lifted off of him and nestled back into his side with a leg still thrown across his hip.

Murphy stroked her back and sighed into her warm embrace. They lay there like that for ages, not bothering to move when they were so comfortable. The thought hit him suddenly, though it had been true for longer than he could remember: Emori was it for him. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's just how Memori be sometimes *shrugs*
> 
> Does this chapter hurt you as much as it hurts me? Uggh. All writing is self-insert in some way, so making my babies freak out means I have to access that part of myself. This is basically free, very unstructured, therapy. Hopefully it reads well.
> 
> !!! As a general psa, because it's present in canon as well as this fic, _please_ do not use alcohol as a coping mechanism. Seriously, it just makes things worse. It's like the acronym HALT. Do not drink if you are Hungry, Angry, Lonely, or Tired. Not an exhaustive list, steer clear of alcohol when you are feeling all sorts of negative emotions too. Be well, lovelies !!!
> 
> -Mobi, your friendly fandom licensed bartender <3


	7. Never Look Back

Emori awoke to the glare of light creeping in through the transport ship window. When she shifted her leg, a little bit of come oozed out of her, only the feeling didn’t carry the same guilt as it had the last time. She was exactly where she needed to be.

She left a soft kiss on John’s cheek and extracted herself from his embrace. She slipped on her clothes, which were scattered around the floor, and finished off the outfit with her glove. The day before, she had taken it off before getting into bed for the first time. But if they were going to go back to Sanctum, she would need to keep her hand hidden away.

Emori snuck out of the transport ship, careful to not wake John. She stood in the berry field outside, watching the sun rise over the radiation shield and the treeline behind it.

“It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” She must not have been as sneaky as she thought, because John was approaching her from behind. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Yeah, it is,” she said, still gazing forward at the sunrise. “It’s nice to just have a regular morning, to not have to worry about the end of the world or some big battle.”

“Let’s just hope it lasts.” His voice was weary, both with sleep and something darker.

“It never does, does it?” Emori sighed. “Hey, are you feeling better? I was thinking we could go back today. They probably need our help with something, now that Naming Day is over.”

John chuckled. “Always so important.” He brushed a strand of hair behind her shoulder. “Maybe you should try being a menace to society. The menace can fuck around as much as they want.”

“I _was_ a menace, remember?”

“Oh, right, how could I forget?” John said. “That’s why I fell in love with you in the first place.”

She tilted her head back to look at him. “Pretty sure you fell for my charming personality, actually.”

“Nah, that’s not it.” He smirked. “I’m just a bit of a masochist.”

Emori rolled her eyes. “Shut up, John.” She turned back to the sunrise, arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t trust the Sanctumites.”

“No shit, they’re sketchy as hell.” He spun her around to face him. “What specifically is bothering you?”

“It’s the way they talk about the Primes. There’s some serious cult behavior here. They’re dangerous, John.”

He nodded solemnly, rubbing her shoulders. “What do you think we should do?”

“I don’t know. What if they hurt our family?”

“What if they _don’t_? Sure they’re not perfect, but the people here seem happy. Peaceful.” He bit his lip. “Maybe we can have that too.”

“And we can’t have peace if they think we’re against them. I get that.” Emori shook her head. “But how are we supposed to know if they’re a danger to us? Is it really worth it?”

“You know I love a fight as much as anyone else, Mori. But they took us in, gave us a place to stay. Even though Diyoza and Madi killed three of their gods. I have to believe that counts for something.” He paused. “I know it’s such a Bellamy and Clarke thing to say, but what would Monty and Harper do?”

Emori nodded. “They’d give them a chance. It’s a risk, John.”

He grabbed her hand in his and stroked circles on her palm. “It’s a risk, you’re right. But if taking the risk means our family—our baby—is safe? I think that’s worth it.”

***

They climbed the hill back up to Sanctum. The city was bustling with people, talking and laughing. Old people sipped tea at tables outside their homes. Parents hugged their children goodbye as they dropped them off at school. Emori and John’s friends were in the tavern eating breakfast when they walked in.

Raven pounced the second she saw them. “Emori! Perfect timing. I have someone ready to teach us how to build our very own radiation shield today. Ryker is waiting for us in the machine shop—he’s gonna take us down to see the shield on the ground.” She looked between Emori and John. “That is, if you’re available.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Emori said with a nod. “Whatever I can do to help.”

Bellamy spoke up. “Echo, would you go with them?”

Raven rolled her eyes. “We can handle ourselves just fine, Bellamy. Echo, you’re welcome to come if you want, but we don’t need her a bodyguard.”

“I’d love to come,” Echo said. “I don’t know technology, but the Children of Gabriel are out there. Best not to invite them into our new camp by leaving ourselves exposed. I should learn everything I can about the shield.”

“Then it’s settled,” Emori decided. “Space Sisters reunion, minus Harper. This is going to be fun.”

***

Ryker was waiting for them in the machine shop when Emori walked in with Raven and Echo. He tossed each of them a sleek black full face helmet. “Come on, it’s faster to the shield if we take bikes.”

Raven’s face lit up. “And _way_ more fun. Hell yeah, man! Let’s do it.”

He offered to teach Raven how to ride, but she declined. “Emori will take to it faster. I’ll do it next time.”

Ryker nodded, and it was Emori’s turn to get excited. She had never seen anything quite like a motorcycle before, but she was giddy at the thought of riding one.

The mechanics of it were pretty simple, compared to some of the machines she’d worked with. Ryker showed her the ignition, clutch, throttle, brakes, how to sit on it without tipping, and how to angle her body through turns. She practiced walking it back and forth in neutral. Soon enough, she was confident she could get them down without killing anyone. Probably.

There were two working motorcycles in the machine shop. Ryker got on the first, Raven on the back wrapping her arms around his waist. Emori mimicked his motions, turning on the engine and splaying her feet solidly on the ground so that Echo could mount behind her without tipping them over. She took a few breaths, steadying her nerves. Echo wrapped her arms reassuringly around her waist, and Emori was ready. She could do this.

Ryker looked back at her, and she shot him a thumbs up. He nodded and directed his motorcycle out the back of the machine shop. Emori copied his motions, lifting her feet off the ground and pulling the throttle to speed up and follow him. He made it look easy, and she had no doubt her own riding was jerky and potentially dangerous.

The machine shop was on the outskirts of Sanctum, so they didn’t have to ride through the city before reaching the winding path down to the fields. Echo’s arms tightened around her waist as they sped down a hill. Emori eased on the brakes to slow down and ease her friend’s nerves without embarrassing her.

Ryker led them down past the fields to the radiation shield. They dismounted the bikes and lifted the helmets from their heads, shaking their hair out. Before Emori could quip about the ride out, Raven spotted Shaw’s grave in the distance. She was pulled to it, and Emori trailed behind her.

Raven crouched in front of the cross. “I hate him.” It was half a whisper, half a cry.

Emori and Echo sat on either side of her silently.

“Why did he make me care? I should have known he would go and get himself killed. They always do.”

Emori wrapped her arm around Raven’s back and laid her hand on her shoulder. “I know.” She sighed. “He died a good death. Leading us to safety.”

Echo hummed her agreement. “We performed the burial rights of his people. Bellamy made sure we did it as best as we could.”

Raven nodded.

“He wanted you to be happy, Raven, same as we want,” Emori told her. “I thought he’d be able to help you with that. How you were up on the Eligius ship, before we came down on the expedition—he was good for you. It’s a shame he was taken from us so soon.”

Raven stood back up, rubbing tears off her cheeks. “It’s fine. I barely knew him, anyway.”

“Raven-”

“Ryker! Show us the shield, would you?” she called. Emori and Echo begrudgingly dropped the subject.

Ryker jumped into action from where he was standing awkwardly off to the side. He spent hours showing them the features of the shield, what it protected against and what it couldn’t. They listened with rapt attention, asking questions and trying to understand how it all worked.

* * *

Jordan sure was a son of a bitch. It was getting harder and harder for Murphy to reign him in. First it was spilling all of Clarke’s secrets the moment he had a chance to get laid. Then it was offering his one-night stand flowers in front of a crowd and growing suspicious when she accepted them. Breaking into the holiest part of Sanctum in broad daylight.

By the time he ran at Priya to accuse her in the tavern, Murphy was fully fed up with his bullshit. No matter how right Jordan had been in his suspicions of the Primes, there was such a thing as subtlety. _Murphy_ was supposed to be the reckless one among their friends, but now even he looked calculating in comparison. Murphy and Bellamy worked together to soften the blows of their kind-of-nephew, but he was like an overgrown and overpowered toddler. Jordan was hard to wrangle.

They had finally gotten him to bed, _exactly like a toddler_ , and Murphy was drinking alone at the bar. He swore he wouldn’t turn out like his mom, completely gone on the stuff. But the quiet burn of alcohol and how it made him feel delightfully fuzzy sure did help ward off the memories of Hell.

Clarke— _scratch that, Josephine_ —sauntered into the tavern behind him and offered the chance of a lifetime: to become immortal.

“I’m listening,” he told her, cautious but too intrigued to turn her down.

“It’s simple,” she said. “You help me convince everyone that I’m Clarke, Abby shows me how to make nightblood, then I wipe my friend and give you his mind drive. Easy.”

It was a tempting plan. Murphy sat back down at the bar. “And just like that, I get to live forever?”

“Yep!” She popped the P, tipping her head to the side. “So what do you say. Allies?”

He let his gaze fall from hers. _They fucking kill people,_ he thought. _You’re a shit person to even consider this._ Then again, becoming immortal would solve a lot of his problems. He’d never have to go to Hell, never leave Emori, never orphan their baby. At the very least, he could get inside information on the Primes to help his friends live peacefully in Sanctum.

It took a minute to decide. “One condition,” Murphy concluded. “I need _two_ mind drives.”

Josephine grinned and dropped her hand from twisting in her hair. “This is the beginning of a great long friendship. _Fine_ ,” she sighed. “You can have two mind drives.”

***

Josephine really made him work for it. She kept him up all night telling stories of their past and teaching her how to pass as Clarke. It was lucky that most everyone had hardly seen Clarke in six years. That would make it easier to fool them.

But as it turns out, fooling them wasn’t his biggest concern. Josephine had neglected to tell him that Bellamy had already figured out she wasn’t Clarke, that Josephine’s parents had killed her. Which wasn’t a small oversight—Bellamy would throw down everything to protect or save Clarke. He loved her, plain and simple. Everyone could see it. Murphy wouldn’t be worried, with how they’d spent six years apart and now Bellamy was with Echo, but clearly that hadn’t changed how he felt about Clarke. He would do anything for her.

The Primes were _fucked._

Murphy posed as a prisoner to persuade Bellamy to go along with the Primes’ deal. Just help agree to not retaliate against Clarke’s murder, and they would help them to build their own compound. It was honestly a pretty good deal. There was an old proverb: _The dead are gone. The living are hungry._

It didn’t take long before Bellamy figured out that Murphy was playing both sides, but it was no matter. The transport ship lifted off to take Abby to space to make nightblood, Bellamy agreed to the deal, and Josephine placed two mind drives in Murphy’s hand.

He and Bellamy walked back to the tavern in silence. Bellamy’s disappointment in him was written all over his body, rivaling his grief over Clarke’s death. As much as Murphy didn’t care what Bellamy thought of him, in another very real sense he cared immensely.

***

Their friends were gathered at the bar when they arrived. Murphy slipped into the seat next to Emori and let Bellamy break the news. _Coward_ , he scolded himself.

He held Emori’s hand as Bellamy told them of Clarke’s death. She had never had much of a relationship with Clarke, but Emori respected her. Despite all the questionable decisions Clarke had made, she was the one to sacrifice herself so they wouldn’t test nightblood on Emori. She was the one to fight for them to stay in the bunker. She was the one to take off her helmet to give to Emori when the radiation was killing her. She was the one to stay on the ground so the rest of them could go to space.

Emori gulped when she heard the news, looking to Murphy for confirmation. He nodded. She squeezed his hand in hers and lifted her chin to Bellamy in a veneer of confidence. “What do we do now?” she asked. “Are we still playing nice?”

“Yes,” Bellamy said. “They’re doing everything they can to help us build our our own compound.” He bit his lip and shook his head slightly. “I don’t like it, but we don’t have much of a choice. We won’t survive out there alone, and we’re not going to tear apart Sanctum to take it for ourselves. Monty said to do better here. This is how we do that.”

There were murmurs of dissent, but all things considered they agreed what had to be done. Clarke was dead already. No amount of revenge could reverse that. Might as well do what was best for those who were still alive.

After they told Echo and Madi, which was absolutely _heartbreaking_ , Emori retreated to the machine shop to work on the radiation shield. Murphy figured he wouldn’t see her again until morning. She did this whenever something was weighing on her mind: throw herself into her work, keep herself occupied. She’d go all night, succumbing to sleep only when exhaustion overpowered her. In the time leading up to their breakup on the Ring, Emori rarely slept in their bed.

***

Murphy lay awake in bed that night. But rather than being haunted by his demons, it was thoughts of Emori that plagued his mind. She was it for him. She was everything, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life loving her.

He thought of the romantic comedy movies the girls had suckered him into watching on the Ring (he complained, but secretly enjoyed the fuck out of the corny things). When the characters in the movies found who they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with, they always made a grand gesture.

Murphy already had the mind drives, already had the promise of forever quite literally in the palm of his hand. He just had to get Emori to agree to spend her forever with him.

A proposal. It would be perfect. He needed a romantic location, a romantic speech, and something to give her. In the movies, they usually used rings. The ultimate symbol of marriage. But Murphy didn’t have rings, didn’t even know where he could get that sort of thing in Sanctum. The mind drives themselves would have to suffice. _It’s the thought that counts, right?_ They could always get rings later. Emori didn’t really have a ring-sized finger on her left hand anyway. She could wear one on her right hand or around her neck, maybe, but it would have to be her choice.

The location of a proposal, Murphy had learned, was crucial to its romantic effect. Some people did it in front of a crowd, and others alone. Alone was best, in Murphy’s mind. Spending their lives together was about the two of them, not everyone else. Crowds create pressure, and he didn’t want that.

In the movies, the proposals would often be in places that were significant to the couple. Where they met or where they fell in love. That wasn’t an option for Murphy. They had only been on the whole _planet_ for a handful of days.

Maybe he could make that work for him. Instead of taking her where they’d already been, he’d take her where they were going. Their new home. He knew the perfect place, a balcony with a view of the whole city laid out below it.

Speeches were not Murphy’s forte, but nevertheless he was a hopeless romantic. He needed to put it all on the line. Tell her how much he loved her, how he wanted to love her forever. How he hoped she’d love him forever too.

Murphy was going to make this proposal as corny as humanly possible.

* * *

Emori woke up to John’s voice in her ear, a hand on her back, and a kiss pressed to the back of her head.

“It’s a beautiful morning,” he said. “Come on outside, I want to show you something.”

Her head stung and her back ached. Working herself to exhaustion in the machine shop and falling asleep hunched over a desk with a pen still in hand may not have been the best idea.

“Don’t do that,” she said.

“Do what?” He seemed genuinely confused.

 _Wasn’t it obvious?_ “Act like nothing’s wrong. They killed Clarke. _How_ can you be okay with that?” He always did this, pretending things didn’t hurt when she knew how much it tormented him.

“I’m not.” John’s face was cold. “Let me guess, you talked to Bellamy?”

“Echo. She said you made a deal with them. We don’t go to war over Clarke, they build us another Sanctum. What I want to know-” She stood up, looking him straight in the eye. “-is what’s in it for you.”

“Only immortality.” He lifted his eyebrows and turned his back to her, walking toward the door of the machine shop.

Emori’s mind caught up to her. “What?” That is _not_ what she expected.

She followed him to the door.

He talked with sweeping arm motions, still looking away. “You know, I really wanted to do this on a balcony overlooking our brand-new world, but-” He let out a sharp breath, eyes meeting hers once again. “I guess if it has to be here, it has to be here.” He got down on one knee, looking straight into her all the while.

“John?” Her mind was racing a mile a minute. A smile sneaked across her face. “What is this?”

He gazed at her lips. “Emori, I love you.” His eyes flitted back to hers. “And look I-I know I’ve never been perfect, or even close, for that matter-” She wanted to make a crack at that, but stopped herself at the last second. “-but you make me want to be. And we’ve been through so much and survived so much.” John’s eyes were filled with love. So much love, it was almost too intense to look at him.

He opened his palm, shaking just the tiniest bit, exposing two blue chips in his hand. They kind of looked like ALIE chips, but that wouldn’t make any sense.

Her forehead wrinkled. “What are those?”

“Mind drives. One for each of us. First they make us nightbloods, then they make us Primes.” He shook his head. “We’ll never die.” _Just like the Primes. The ones that killed Clarke, killed so many other people._

_Just like the Primes, who didn’t have to worry about death taking everything from them._

Emori held her mouth open, astounded. “Well, now that’s a survivor’s move.”

“Oh, the ultimate.” He laughed cheerfully. Nervously. He pressed his lips together. “So what do you say? Think you can love me forever?”

Emori just looked at him for a moment, searching his eyes and trying to take in what he’d just offered.

“Adorable.” Josephine cut into the room, breaking the moment. Emori turned to her, couldn’t even think of her answer to John. They’d talk about it later.

***

When she was in the machine shop, it was easy to ignore the consequences of helping Josephine kill Clarke. Emori was good at surviving, had always needed to be. It wouldn’t be the first time she had traded someone else’s life for her own.

In the tavern, though, everything got more difficult. She looked into her friends’ eyes, and she knew she couldn’t betray them. The way Bellamy loved Clarke—she couldn’t tear her away from him. Echo smiled at Emori from across the room, and it was the simplest thing in the world: she had a family. They were her family. And it was a family that stuck together and worked together, even when it hurt. As tempting as immortality was, it wasn’t worth sacrificing the family she had created.

So she told Bellamy that Clarke was still alive. It stung when he wasn’t surprised, it really did. But she understood. Being with John—sometimes it meant she wasn’t trusted. He was too much of a wildcard, and everyone knew how united they were. She and John were never on opposite sides, not of anything important.

They needed a plan, and they needed it fast. Josephine was going to kill Clarke that day, and even if she didn’t, Clarke would die soon anyway.

Emori took in a shaky breath. She spoke in a harsh whisper, her friends crowded around a table. “Josephine is trying to kill Clarke with an EMP. Like you did with Raven to get ALIE out of her head. Jackson, we need you. Do you think you can kill Josephine without hurting Clarke?”

“Yeah.” he nodded. “But I need somewhere secure to work. Medical equipment, no Primes barging in and trying to kill us.”

Bellamy hummed. “Will a security outpost do? There’s a bunch of them marked on the map Russell gave us. I don’t know what kind of equipment they have there, but-”

“I can make that work,” Jackson said.

“Perfect.” Echo was in battle mode already. “How do we get out there? The radiation shield is in the way.”

Emori grinned. “The EMP. I can use it on the shield to temporarily disable it.” She bit her lip. “It’s not ready to use yet, though. I’ll need to finish up in the machine shop first.”

Echo looked into her eyes, calculating. “Okay. We’ll need to get Josephine down there without alerting the other Primes. Can you do that, Emori?”

Miller scoffed. “What, just run with the EMP and hope she follows?”

“Oh, she’ll follow.” Emori was sure of it. Josephine was ruthless, she’d do anything to survive. “I just need to be sly about getting a head start. But that shouldn’t be a problem.” She grinned. “I’m an outlaw.”

Echo nodded. “Jackson, Miller, Jordan: go find Madi. Bring her down to the radiation shield. Emori: bring the EMP back to the machine shop. Act as if nothing is wrong. Do what you need to do to get it ready, then sneak out and bring it down. Bellamy and I will be waiting for you there. When Josephine comes we can ambush her, set the EMP, and bring her to a research outpost. It’s all Jackson after that.”

It was a plan they all could agree to. Emori’s friends dispersed across Sanctum to prepare their attack.

Echo grabbed Emori’s arm before she could leave. “Hey.” Her eyes were soft, strikingly different from just a second ago. “You can do this. _Ste yuj_.”

***

It was a long run to the radiation shield. Emori slipped out of the machine shop with the EMP, still well practiced in stealth from her days on Earth. Then she was running, running, running. Heart pounding, mind screaming. _Was she messing everything up? What would this do to John? What if they were wrong, and Josephine brought the guard down with her? What if this was all a big mistake?_

Emori was almost to the shield when a motorcycle cut in front of her. John and Josephine. _Perfect_.

Seeing John and how distraught he was hit her harder than she expected. It pained her to turn on him like this, hated to be the cause of his pain. But she refused to be ruled by selfishness. That’s not who she was, not anymore.

The plan was going perfectly, until a siren rang out across Sanctum. They didn’t have much time, and Jackson hadn’t arrived yet. Josephine held John with a scalpel to his neck, and everything fell apart. Emori couldn’t stop the chaos. She needed to protect John, needed to set the EMP so they could get Josephine out of Sanctum.

She couldn’t do it all. Josephine slit John’s thigh, and Emori dropped everything to tend to him. She grabbed his thigh, trying to hold the blood in. Echo set the EMP, letting Bellamy drag Josephine across alone. They could find Gabriel. He would know what to do.

Echo ran back toward Sanctum to save the rest of their friends. She wanted Emori to go with her. John told her to go. Maybe she should have gone—that would be the survivor’s move. But Emori stayed with the man she loved.

It was all too much. Everything could be ending right there. The guards were going to come, and they were probably going to kill her and John just like Josephine said they would if they backed out of the deal. Emori could lose him, lose everything.

If they were to die that day, it couldn’t be with unfinished business.

“My answer’s yes,” she told him. “I will love you forever, even if we die today.”

John leaned his forehead into hers as he stumbled out of consciousness.

“Stay with me, John!” she yelled. This couldn’t be the end.

No way in Hell was she going down without a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello beautiful people! (yes, that means you)
> 
> So this chapter was a bit lighter than the last :) Y'all know I couldn't stay away from the Memori proposal. It just makes me so happy. Also, I spent like an hour at work today (it was a slow shift) trying to remember an idea I had for this fic. Turns out I already included it, so we're all good. This is why I need to write things down and not rely on my memory to serve me in any useful way when it comes to these things, uggh.
> 
> Did any one line or scene hit you particularly hard this chapter? If so, I wanna know what!
> 
> I hope your day is as beautiful as you are!  
> -Mobi <3


	8. Kith and Kin

It was Murphy’s fault they were captured. Jade threw Murphy and Emori into the Sanctum jail along with Jackson, Miller, and a crazed Madi. Their eyes bore into him, silently blaming him for their plight. He was a traitor. He sacrificed Clarke and the nameless lives of his and Emori’s future hosts, all for the good of his family. But it got them all captured, and he fucked up.

The guards came back and threw Raven and Abby in with them. They were disoriented, thrashing against their bonds but unable to escape. Simone announced that they had to choose one of their friends to be executed, otherwise every one of them would die.

Murphy laughed at the turn of events. _It fucking figured._ Just when things were starting to work out for him, he endangered everyone he cared about and they threw him to the wolves. Gaia came with news that Echo was working on a plan to save him from the pyre, but he wasn’t holding his breath. He sat with Emori against the wall, trying to recite every detail of her before he was plunged back into the black inferno of Hell. It was like she said: he had everything he needed, even if it was just for a short time.

By the time evening fell and Russell strode into the jail with an entourage of guards, Murphy had come to terms with his very possible death. This was it for him. The end of the line. Might as well go out with dignity.

There was nothing that could have prepared him for what came next—it was worse than he could have imagined. Plans had changed. Not only were they taking Murphy, they were taking everyone to the pyre. _Emori._ She was fighting, struggling for her life against the guards who came to grab her, but he was frozen in shock. He couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything.

***

Sanctum was silent as they were paraded through the streets. It was eerie how quiet it was. Every other crowd he’d been in had applauded tortures and executions with yells and laughter. But in Sanctum, it was silent. Almost like they were appalled by the actions of their gods. It didn’t make any sense.

There were eight wooden structures set up in front of the castle. One for each of them, plus a man Murphy had never seen before. The guards pushed his back against one of the structures and tied his hands behind him. It was an all too familiar ache, at this point.

Even that wouldn’t be too bad, but Emori was still fighting the guards, pulling at her restraints and hurling empty threats at them. _Didn’t she know it was useless? She was smarter than that._ Emori didn’t stop, even when her insubordination earned her a slap across the face. _Oh. She had nothing left to lose._

Russell ambled between the prisoners, spewing some horseshit about forgiveness and the dead into a microphone for the dumbstruck crowd.

Emori yelled out to the people of Sanctum. “He’s lying!” Murmurs rose through the crowd. “They’re not gods!”

“Shut up!” a guard yelled, smacking her in the stomach with his staff.

Murphy yelled out, lunging for her in his bonds. _Emori. They couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t touch her or their baby._ She keeled over, breathless from the impact.

Russell resumed his speech about the blasphemy of the Earth people, and Emori turned back to Murphy. Her eyes were wide, panicked and distrusting. It was almost like that time in Becca’s lab, when they were both chained to the rocket waiting for Abby to inject Emori with nightblood. But this time, she still had fight left in her. She wasn’t ready to die.

He wanted nothing more than to be with her in these last few moments. He would hold her in his arms, stroke her hair. Tell her how brave she was, how much he loved her, how lucky he was that she found him. Tell her that even a short life spent with her was greater than a million lifetimes spent apart. Love her with all he had as they burned alive.

The guards approached them from behind with flaming torches and poured gasoline on their feet.

Murphy growled. “Russell, you don’t need to do this, please.” His voice escalated to a yell, desperate. “Russell!”

“To think your bones might have wound up in the reliquary.”

 _Bones. That was it._ “Wait wait wait listen we can still make nightblood. Russell listen to me, okay, you can still save your wife.” It was a risky move, pulling the wife card. But Murphy knew it would work. He’d do anything for his wife.

He was right. It worked. Russell gave them 24 hours to make nightblood with the bone marrow solution. Murphy and Emori ran into each other’s arms, spinning a little with the relief of it all.

“Are you okay?” He whispered into her ear.

She nodded into his shoulder. “I think so, yeah. He didn’t hit me that hard. It hardly hurts anymore.”

“You sure?” Murphy pulled away to look at her quizzically. “It looked pretty hard.”

“I’ll get Jackson to look at me, just to be safe. But John, I’m fine.” Emori pulled a forced smile. “No need to worry.”

***

As it turned out, Murphy wasn’t the only one who knew how to use his enemies’ love to his advantage. Russell pulled the same move right back on him, strong holding him into leaving Sanctum to get Josephine from Bellamy. Of course he had no choice but to go along with Russell’s plan—he didn’t even consider for a second not taking the deal. Russell threatened Emori’s life; there was no way in hell Murphy could risk that. Besides, it was to his advantage to make Russell think he was on his side.

After he returned Josie to Sanctum, the guards brought Emori up to the castle to be with him. Jackson had examined her and concluded that, just as she said, Emori would be just fine. The bruising on her stomach would fade soon, and the baby was still too low and far back enough in Emori’s belly to be hurt. Murphy ignored her snark at being right to pull her in for a fierce hug.

***

It was one thing to plan to be Primes, and another completely to actually be doing it. Russell led them to the operating room for their procedures. Their friends were already there, harvesting bone marrow. Raven glared at Murphy and Emori as they entered, boring mental daggers into their skin. But that pain was nothing compared to the way Murphy’s chest tightened when he saw Madi strapped to the operating chair, passed out and connected to a million tubes.

The gravity of what they were doing hit him. Being Primes, it _killed_ people. Murphy knew it before, of course he did. But Madi was just a kid. She deserved better than this, even if Sheidheda had disfigured her mind into something unrecognizable.

He looked to Emori. She was clearly thinking the same thing. It was suddenly a lot harder to stand still and not punch Russell for being an absolute monster. His face really did look like it needed a good punching.

But Murphy knew better than to act on his violent impulses. He played the part of the perfect Prime-to-be, sitting to Emori’s left on the operating chair when Russell cleared the room and ushered them there. Murphy shrugged off his jacket and pulled off Emori’s sweatshirt for her when she didn’t move to do it herself. Her badass hand trembled as she reached out for him. He squeezed it in his. God only knew what memories and worst-case scenarios were racing through her head.

Russell prepared their arms for injection. He came to Murphy first with the bone marrow syringe. “First we make you nightbloods,” he reiterated. “Then we make you Primes. Ready?”

Emori glanced at Murphy. “We’re ready,” she said.

Russell nodded and pierced Murphy’s skin with the needle. He pushed down on the syringe, filling Murphy’s blood with the black formula. He slipped the needle back out and pressed a piece of gauze to the wound with a bit of tape.

It was Emori’s turn next. Russell grabbed another syringe and started toward her arm. Emori’s breath hitched at the sight, and she jerked her body away.

Murphy softened his voice. “Hey, Mori, look at me.” He brought his left hand to the side of her face, still gripping her badass hand with his other one. She lifted her gaze to meet his. “You’re okay, Emori. Nothing happens unless you want it. Can you sit still so he can help you?”

Emori lifted her chin.

“She’s ready,” Murphy said. “Do it, Russell.”

He rubbed circles on Emori’s cheek with his thumb as Russell injected her with the marrow. They stayed that way even after he was done and moved away from her. It would take a while before they were ready for the mind drives.

After some time had passed, Russell checked their blood to see if the bone marrow had grafted successfully. He grinned at the black blood that oozed out of the pricks he made. “Beautiful. Ready to become gods?”

Murphy pecked a soft kiss to Emori’s lips. “As we’ll ever be,” he said.

* * *

After their mind drives were sewn into their skulls, the guards ushered Emori and John upstairs into the palace to get dressed for Naming Day. Emori didn’t know what she expected to find in the room where they led her, but it wasn’t this. There were three servants waiting for her in Kaylee’s round dressing room. Much more than a simple change of clothes, they seemed intent on making her unrecognizable.

It began with a bath. Emori could appreciate getting clean, but it all felt a little strange with the servants cooing at her and scrubbing at her dirt-stained and bruised skin. They didn’t seem to notice the little bump of her belly, or at least if they did, they didn’t say anything.

The servants dried her hair and presented her with a blue gown. It was unlike anything Emori had ever worn before: ornate, carefully tailored, and fitted with a gold cape. The neckline was low and wide, and there were revealing slits on the waistline.

She struggled to put the gown on herself. It was too tight, wouldn’t fall neatly into place like her own clothes. The servants rushed over to help her pull it on and fasten it in place. The material was surprisingly soft against her skin, and the gown didn’t feel too tight once it was on her body.

One of the servants brought her a new glove. It was the same blue as the gown, adorned with little flowers, and clearly made just for her. Emori slipped it on her hand. She thought the glove looked quite ugly, but she thanked the servants all the same.

They sat her on a plush chair and coiffed her hair above her shoulders with jewelry. It was uncomfortable to be so bare, to leave her neck exposed like that along with her chest and waist, but Emori knew better than to complain. If she was going to be Kaylee, she’d have to get used to her tastes.

The servants moved to her face next. They frowned at her tattoo, muttering amongst themselves ideas she couldn’t quite make out. One of them hurried out of the room, and the other two got to work drawing on Emori’s face. She squeaked when they approached her eyes with a pen, but quickly composed herself to let them draw a line above her eyelashes. They pricked her ears with a needle and pushed earrings through the holes they made.

They backed off from her face and circled around her, muttering to one another and fussing with her dress and hair and face. The servant who had rushed off returned to the room. Finally satisfied, they stood her up and laid shoes out for her. She had seen the curved shoes with elevated heels that some of the women in Sanctum wore, and they looked like torture devices. Emori was relieved to see that although unnecessarily fancy, these shoes were flat. _At least she’d be able to walk._

The servants led her by the hand, over to a tall mirror on the other side of the dressing room. “How do you like?” one of them asked.

Emori gazed at her reflection. If the servants were trying to make her unrecognizable, they had succeeded. She grabbed the edge of her cape and threw it out with her as she twirled in place, enjoying the way it fluttered in the air. Emori smiled shyly. “I like,” she said. “Thank you.”

The servant curtsied. “You’re very welcome. There is still time before the Naming Day celebration. Would you like us to fetch you something?”

“Bring me to Daniel, please.”

“Very well.” the servant opened the door to the hallway, where the guard Jade was waiting for her.

Jade led her through the halls. The palace was absolutely gigantic. It reminded Emori of the Ring, except a thousand times better decorated. Everything was immaculate, shiny, and luxurious. She couldn’t imagine ever getting used to this, not in a million lifetimes.

They were met by another guard standing outside a closed door. He asked them, “Have you come to see Daniel, hallowed be his name?”

“Yes,” Emori said. “May I be let in to him?”

“As you wish.” He rapped a polite knock at the door.

A male servant opened it from the inside. Emori saw the back of John’s head from behind him, facing the far wall and seated on a chair as servants fussed around him. The servant stepped aside and she walked into the room after him.

Daniel’s dressing room was similar to Kaylee’s, but his was square whereas hers was round. Pressed blue cloth adorned the seats and dressed the windows. Flowers were arranged in golden vases and mirrors were edged with ornate golden designs.

She went around John’s chair. The servants parted for her and left the room, allowing her to see his face. _Wow_. Emori thought _she_ was unrecognizable, but John looked like a completely different person. Clearly he had gotten the same treatment. Dark face paint curved around his left eye from his forehead down to curl at his cheekbone, like the missing part of the circle of her tattoo. John’s eyes were lined in black, making them shine even brighter than usual against the darkness.

He flashed a half smile. “Like what you see?”

Emori rolled her eyes. “Shut up, John. You’re beautiful now as always… but yeah, especially now.”

“I could say the same to you. You look like a fucking queen or something.”

She laughed. “Just missing the crown, right?”

John stood up to meet her. “Nah, you don’t even need it. That would just be excessive. You’re already the most beautiful goddess there is, so why rub it in?”

“You like it when I’m confident.”

“Hell yeah I do.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, and they both laughed into it.

Emori hummed. “Maybe being Primes won’t be so bad after all.”

“We’re gods now, remember? We can do whatever the Hell we want.”

***

Naming Day didn’t go as planned. Gabriel came to Sanctum, bringing the Red Sun toxin and an uprising with him. The Primes fled to the Eligius ship with Raven, Gaia, and Madi as hostages. Emori and John, for their part, decided to stay in Sanctum. They needed to fight to save their friends. It was hard to give up the relative safety of space, but they had no choice. Not really. Staying in Sanctum was what was best for their family.

It was John who figured out that it was Clarke, not Josephine as they had thought, who went up to space with the Primes. Emori’s mouth fell open in shock. _How could Clarke have survived everything?_ It was magical. Impossible. And it almost wiped away Emori’s guilt over helping to kill her. Almost.

Emori and John hid in the palace as the city erupted into chaos. They released Gabriel from his binds, and the three of them watched the mutiny from a window.

Gabriel, as a former Prime, knew exactly what was going on in Sanctum. He pointed out the tavern. Sanctumites were dragging each other in there, and the door was shut behind them.

“That’s where they’re doing the adjustments,” Gabriel said. “It’s for the nonbelievers. They’re offered two choices: their blood or the blood of Sanctum. Either they die, or they’re brainwashed by adjusters and the Red Sun toxin to worship the Primes. Strong stuff.”

John spotted their friends being dragged into the tavern, each one gagged and bound at the wrists. He pointed to the scene. “Like _Hell_ they do. Come on, Emori. We’re stopping this.”

Gabriel nodded. “We can make this work,” he said. “Kaylee was against the Adjustment Protocol. You’re the only Primes left in Sanctum, now. You can stop it.”

Emori was ready to march over to the tavern and grab her friends. She started toward the palace door, but Gabriel grabbed her by the wrist to pull her back.

“Half the people out there want you dead,” he warned her. “And the other half want your friends dead. Be careful.” Gabriel nodded to John. “Both of you.”

John grinned. “We’ve dealt with worse, haven’t we?”

“Beats the end of the world, that’s for sure!”

“Yeah, that’s just getting old at this point. Let’s go save our friends.”

Emori grabbed her cape in her gloved hand to swoosh behind her as they exited because, well, she just couldn’t help herself.

***

By some stroke of luck, Emori and John were able to retrieve all their friends from the Adjustment Protocol in the tavern. They led everyone back to the palace. Even Octavia was there. _Or was it Blodreina now?_ She seemed different from before, less intense. Like the little sister Emori had known from Bellamy’s stories and not the dictator that burned her people’s only source of food and marched them into a deathtrap. But sometimes the most evil people appeared the sweetest.

Gabriel needed help saving Sanctum, and John refused to help. After all, they had already saved their friends. They weren’t about to risk their lives over _strangers_. Emori surprised herself by volunteering in his place. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. She was strong, pure, righteous. Unstoppable.

All that came crashing to an end when Gabriel said it couldn’t be her, that it had to be John. They needed to pretend to support the Adjustment Protocol, and Kaylee would never do that.

But after Emori’s volunteering, John was quick to agree to Gabriel’s plan. He merely looked to her for confirmation, and at her nod he accepted. She still couldn’t believe she had that kind of power over him. Before John, no one listened to her without a knife to their throat. But he would do anything for her, and she was drunk on the power of it even as she couldn’t save Gabriel’s people herself.

That left Emori alone in the castle with Jordan. Everyone else went out to fight. It wasn’t that Emori couldn’t fight, not at all. She was better at it than _John_ , at the very least. But the castle was the safest place for her, and for once she was okay with staying back to protect Jordan and herself and her baby.

***

The fighting came to a halt. The screaming in the streets ceased and turned to wails of loss and love. It was still dark outside, but it wouldn’t be long before dawn broke. Flakes of soft snow drifted down from the sky, lazy and swaying in the breeze.

She needed to help move the bodies and help Sanctum heal from its loss. Emori left Jordan to scour the castle for something more weather appropriate to wear. He was safe now, and her revealing dress did little to protect her from the cool air.

Emori wandered the halls looking for something familiar. She was tired, _so tired._ She wished she could go to bed and sleep for days. She opened door after door until she found Daniel’s dressing room. John’s clothes were still there, from when he got dressed in his Prime attire earlier that day. Emori shed her dress and pulled his t-shirt and pants on in its place. She rolled up the hems of his pants so they wouldn’t drag on the floor with her shorter legs. It still felt a bit like she was drowning in them, so she looped a belt around the waistline to keep the pants from falling off.

Emori grabbed John’s jacket. She shoved her arms through it and stuffed her hands in the pockets. Inside the right one she found a couple pieces of crinkled paper. Confused, she took them out to look at them.

 _Oh._ The papers were photographs. The first was a portrait of the Murphy family from when John was a child. He was standing in front of his parents, still shorter than both of them. John was perhaps twelve years old in the photo, smiling and as happy as could be. He had changed a lot over the years, but this was definitely still her John. He had the same bright and mischievous eyes, the same nose he hadn’t grown into quite yet. The same love emanating from him.

Emori teared up as she studied the photo. She had seen it once before, the day on the Ring she had finished repairing the printing machine. She’d pulled John over to show him, and he hadn’t been impressed. He printed out one photo, the one of his family from before his father was floated and his mother drank herself to death. Emori thought he had done it just to placate her, at the time. But seeing the photograph again now, years later, she couldn’t be so sure.

She flipped that photo to the back to expose the second. Emori had no idea what it could be. _He only printed the one photo, right?_ She couldn’t think of a second.

Emori had to sit down when she saw the second photo. It was from their winter solstice party, a year after Praimfaya. Emori remembered when the photo was taken. They were dancing, neither knowing quite how to do it but completely lost in each other anyway. John leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You’re everything to me, Emori. I don’t think there’s anything you could do to make me fall out of love with you. I could never imagine not loving you.” She turned her head to press her cheek into his chest as they swayed to the music. Raven was peering at them from behind a camera. The flash shot off and Emori could feel the smile plastered all over her face. John’s face was obscured behind hers, but even from the photo she knew he was smiling too.

He must have printed this photograph without her. Kept it through their breakup, through going back to Earth then back to space and finally to Sanctum. To hold on for all that time… it meant something. Emori rubbed tears from her cheeks. Stupid pregnancy hormones. _Yeah, that’s what it was. Pregnancy hormones._

She returned the photos to their home in John’s jacket pocket. It was time to face the world.

***

John was helping Jackson tend to the wounded when she found him outside. She threw herself into his arms, gripping on tightly and digging her face in his neck.

“Never leave me,” she muttered into his collar.

He pulled her in tight to his chest. “I’d never dream of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's Up?!
> 
> So there it is, the end of canon (yay!!!) Now we can get back into the swing of things with whatever the hell I want to write about. It seems y'all like that stuff best, and I have to admit that I do too. Whatever I write next will definitely be all original
> 
> I can't post this chapter without shouting out 6x10 Matryoshka for giving me the idea for this fic in the first place (I felt a lot of emotions when Emori got hit with the staff, okay? Not my fault where my mind went with that). I was seriously all like _BUT WHAT ABOUT THE BABY!!!_ when that happened, even there was literally zero reason for me to think she was pregnant in the first place. Ah well, at least I got a fanfic out of my weird brain
> 
> It floors me that there are some of you who come back every. single. day. just to read my fanfic! I appreciate every single one of you, even if you never comment so I have no idea who you are or even know you exist. I love to hear your thoughts, so hit me up ;)
> 
> Kisses!  
> Mobi <3


	9. Soft Spot

Things calmed down for Murphy and Emori after the battle of Sanctum. They spent the first few days cleaning up the mess: healing the wounded, taking the dead to the offering grove, and repairing the damage to the city. Emori was fatigued, and spent a lot of her time sleeping. Murphy tried his best to keep people from disturbing her.

Things weren’t calm for everyone, though. Gabriel took Octavia back to his tent with Bellamy and Echo because of some whack tattoo on her back.

Bellamy and Echo came back to Sanctum frantic, worrying about how Octavia had vanished into thin air. Murphy was in the tavern with Raven and Clarke when they came rushing in.

Clarke jumped to help, which was surprising to exactly no one.

“Murphy, you coming?” Bellamy looked at him, expectant.

Echo placed a hand on Bellamy’s arm. “Someone needs to stay back and look after Madi and Jordan.”

“Don’t worry, guys, I have it all under control,” Raven said. Echo raised her eyebrows at her. “Okay, yeah, you’re right. Murphy and Emori too.”

Bellamy furrowed his brow. “What aren’t you guys telling me?”

_Wait, did they… Did they know about Emori’s pregnancy?_ Murphy thought they were keeping it between the two of them. He tightened his lips. “Yeah, what aren’t you saying?”

Raven narrowed her eyes at him. “Has she really not told you? I thought-”

“-I know, Rey, I just didn’t know _you_ did.” He cleared his throat. “How long?”

“Since the beginning,” Echo said. “Back on the Ring. We figured it out together, and she wasn’t ready to talk to you yet.” Did _everyone_ know before him? Great. That was just great.

“Wasn’t planning on doing it like this, but since everyone seems to know anyway: Emori’s pregnant. And yeah, it’s mine.”

Bellamy’s eyes grew wide. “Emori’s _what_?”

“You heard me.” Murphy put his hands in his pockets. “She’s pregnant. We’re having a baby. You know, the works.”

Clarke smiled. “Murphy, that’s fantastic! I’m so happy for you.”

Raven pulled him in for a hug. “Whoever knew the cockroach would have a baby? Congratulations. You’re gonna do great.”

“Wow,” Bellamy agreed, “yeah, that’s awesome. I should have seen it already, but I never thought-” He paused, scratching his beard and shaking his head “-I never thought that would happen. You two should stay here, stay safe and work things out with Sanctum.”

They all agreed that Murphy and Emori should stay in Sanctum. Murphy was sure that Emori would insist on going to help their friends if they had talked to her first, but she was sleeping when Bellamy and Echo came back. Besides, someone needed to look after Madi and Jordan since they had been doing such a _bang up job_ with that so far.

Emori was only slightly angry with him when she found out Murphy had agreed to stay in Sanctum without consulting her, and he took it as a win.

Raven stayed back with them. Maybe it was because she thought her leg would slow them down, or because she thought she was needed in the city. Either way, Murphy was thankful to have her.

***

Late in the evening on the fourth day after the battle, Murphy was in the tavern with Jordan. They were slouched over the bar sipping at deep brown liquor, unwinding from a full day of manual labor expanding Sanctum to accommodate Wonkru and the Eligius prisoners. Emori had already gone to bed, and was able to get Madi to do the same with only minor complaint. (They were excellent babysitters, by this point).

Raven limped into the tavern and sat next to Murphy. “What’s up bitches?”

Murphy hummed in response, drumming his fingers on his rocks glass.

She ordered herself a drink and the bartender poured it immediately. Raven turned to him. “So, Murphy,” she started, tilting her head. “I heard you proposed to Emori.”

“Mmhm.” He was surprised it took her this long to bring it up.

She lifted her glass. “First off: congrats! I’m really happy for you two.”

Murphy lifted his glass and clinked it with hers. They both took a sip.

“Secondly, what possessed you to do it with the mind drives? What part of that seemed _romantic_ to you?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. Seemed like the right move at the time.”

Raven dropped her head on the bar and groaned. “You are so helpless. How did you even get Emori in the first place?”

“I like to think she had very few options and just took what she could get.”

“Shut up, Murphy, you’re perfect for each other. But seriously, why didn’t you just ask me to make you a ring?”

_Was she… offended?_ “Didn’t even think about that. You think that’s something she’d want?” He shrugged. “I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

“Yes, Murphy,” she deadpanned, as if it was obvious. “Yes, yes I do.”

Jordan piped in. “My god, just get the girl a ring already! You’ve been together for what, 131 years? It’s about damn time.”

Raven laughed. “More or less. Oh, and Murphy? You’re having a wedding too. Emori would never ask for it, but she wants that.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” Murphy paused. “How do you know all this?”

She shook her head. “Sometimes I swear I’m the only functional person in your relationship.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. Between the two of us, Emori and I make up one whole functioning adult.”

Jordan laughed into his drink. “Is that supposed to be impressive?”

Murphy turned to him. “You’re the one who picked _me_ , of all people, to be your favorite from your parents’ stories. We’re in the same boat, kid.”

Jordan pouted. “It was a rebellious phase, okay?”

“Then why do you still have matching hairstyles?” Raven teased.

“Turns out it really works for me. Shut up!”

Raven bit back a chuckle. “Sure, Jordan. Whatever you say. And Murphy? I’m making you rings. Come to the machine shop tomorrow and I’ll measure your finger.”

“Whatever you want, Rey.”

***

The next afternoon, Murphy held true to his word and went to have his ring fitted. He hung in the doorway when he saw the machine shop was filled with children, a whole class full. A group of them were crowding around Emori, shoving through each other to get a closer look at her badass hand.

She tried to keep it away from them at first, but it became clear she wouldn’t be able to do that without scaring or hurting them. Emori sighed, tilting her head back. She loosened her muscles and let them drag her hand in front of her.

“Miss Emori?” one of the boys asked. “How did your hand get like this?”

“I was born like this. That’s the way it’s always been.” Her voice was soft and a little scared. Murphy wanted to run in to save her, but he knew she was in no real danger.

“Does it hurt?” Another child asked, a short girl in a pink dress with braids down her back.

Emori smiled, relaxing with an exhale. “No, not at all. I know it looks like I was hurt, but I’m just fine.”

“Oh. Good. Can you hold hands?”

“Yes, I manage just fine. Wanna feel?”

The girl nodded, and Emori laced her fingers with hers.

The children giggled. Emori reeled back, but then they were clambering over each other. “I wanna feel, I wanna feel!”

“ _Class_ ,” a woman from the back of the shop, presumably their teacher, warned. “Leave Miss Emori alone unless you have a question about her work.”

“Sorry, Miss Emori,” They obediently said in unison. Murphy stifled a laugh.

“Now. It’s time for us to go back to the school. Say thank you to Miss Reyes and Miss Emori for having us today.”

“Thank you!” the children chorused. They picked up their pencils and papers and trailed their teacher out the door past Murphy.

Emori’s eyes followed them as they exited and landed on Murphy.

“Seems like you had your hands full there,” he said, stepping toward her.

Emori let out an exasperated sigh. “Can you believe they didn’t even _ask_ before showing up?”

“Um, actually, they did...” Raven ran her fingers through her hair. “I just forgot.”

Emori shook her head. “You see what I have to work with, John? Impossible.”

He dropped a kiss to her forehead. “Don’t I know it. Hey Raven, you ready to take my measurements for the ring?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Just a minute. Can you help clean up after those little tornadoes? They touched _all_ of my stuff.”

***

Murphy crawled into bed behind Emori that night and wrapped an arm around her waist. She had gone to bed not long before him, but he assumed she was already asleep in the dark room. That is, until he heard her sniffle.

“What is it?”

She whispered, her voice hoarse. “We’re having a baby, John.”

“Yeah?” He didn’t get what Emori was talking about. They had known about it for a while now.

“I can’t do it.” She shook her head minutely. “I don’t know how to do it, John. What if-what if I can’t love it like I’m supposed to and I mess it up and I can’t fix it? I’m too-I’m too broken to be a mother. I can’t do it.”

Murphy stroked his hand over the gentle curve of her belly. “I don’t know. Things might go wrong, yeah. But everything we’ve been through? I think we can handle a little challenge.”

She cried in earnest. He turned her around and let her cry into him, clutching at his bicep like a lifeline. It stung, but he didn’t say anything, caressing her hair and letting her loosen her grip on her own.

Emori quieted down enough for him to speak again. “You’re not broken, Mori. You’ve been hurt. You’ve been hurt real bad, but it didn’t break you. You’re so good.” He pecked her nose. “So, _so_ good. You work so hard and you love so hard. There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll be an amazing mother.”

She lifted her hand to wipe at her eyes. “What does that even look like? All I had was Baylis. I don’t want to be like him.” She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“And you won’t. You’re nothing like him. Baylis wanted to control you. That’s not parenting, it’s abuse. You love, and you care, and you want to do better.”

Her breathing was shallow. “What if we still do it wrong though? I don’t- I don’t know how to do any of this. I’m gonna mess it up.”

“Yeah, we’re definitely gonna mess it up.”

“Don’t say that, John.”

“We are! But it’s gonna be okay. Because we care about doing a good job. We’re gonna fuck up and make a million mistakes-” He laughed sadly. “-but then we’ll fix them. We’re gonna ask for help when we need it and try again and we’ll be okay.”

“John, all we know is dysfunction. What’s gonna happen when things get hard? When there’s a war or the world ends again or we just get tired? What’s gonna stop me from turning into Baylis?”

Murphy ran his fingers through her hair. “From everything I know, you’re nothing like him. Not even a little. I don’t know how someone as good as you could come out of that, but you did. You could never be like Baylis because you _care_ , Emori. You’re gonna do so much better.”

“Now you sound like Bellamy.”

“Oh, you wish.” Murphy wiggled his eyebrows.

She crinkled her nose. “Ew! He’s, like, my brother.”

“And here I thought I was your brother, _Kaylee_.”

Emori groaned. “Stop it right now or I’ll never have sex with you again.”

“I _would_ , but I’d like to see you try to stick to that. How long would it take for you to break, a week?”

“Maybe less, even.” She sniffled. “Oh, I almost forgot: I made an appointment with the midwife for tomorrow. You’re coming.”

“You say that as if I’d rather be anywhere else. Of course I’m coming.”

* * *

Sanctum’s midwife, Margot, worked out of a second floor apartment above the clinic. Emori took off from the machine shop just after lunch to meet her there. It was only a short walk—it never took long to get anywhere within the city—but Emori was breathless by the end of it anyway. As if she wasn’t highly fit _and_ trained in combat.

It would have been embarrassing, except for the fact that her nerves were driving her crazy. _Was that normal?_ This should be something she could handle. She was an adult. She was healthy. Women had been doing this since the beginning of humanity. It wasn’t exactly new. So why was she so nervous?

Margot opened the door with a bright smile, black springy hair bouncing around her face. “Welcome, sweetheart! Please, please, step here. Let’s get your height and weight all figured out.”

Emori stepped onto a low platform, and Margot recorded her measurements on a clipboard. Emori gazed into the room. It was a wide and set up much like the other apartments she’d seen in Sanctum. To the left was a kitchen fitted with a sink, stove, and a waist-height refrigerator. There was a small dining table and a double bed pressed to the right wall. Pastel tapestries covered the walls, and altogether it looked like a true home.

It wasn’t exactly a typical apartment, however. In the middle of the room, there was a cot in the same style as they had in the clinic. To the left of it was medical equipment, including a computer and instruments Emori didn’t recognize. To the right was a row of three chairs, all facing the cot.

Margot motioned to the cot, and Emori lifted herself to sit on it.

Margot followed her and smiled again. “Yesterday you said you were bringing someone along with you, Emori. Is that still happening?”

“Oh, yes, my lover John is coming. Or- Murphy. You can call him Murphy.”

“Excellent. It’s always good to have support. Is it okay if we go over some questions before he gets here?”

Emori nodded.

“Alright. What can you tell me about Murphy? Is he the baby’s father?”

“Yes, he is. John’s great. Huge romantic. A bit of an asshole, but it’s mostly just annoying. He’s at his best when there’s someone to save, someone to protect. John’s a good man. He might not know it, but he is. And he’s a hero, too.”

“How long have you been together?”

“Six years, more or less.”

“How did you meet Murphy?”

“It was, um…” _Jok_. How could she put it in a non-crazy sounding way? “I met John on a job, back on Earth.”

“And what is it that you do for work, dear?”

“Back then, I was… I sourced tech. But now I’m a mechanic.”

“Alright.” She eyed the knife strapped to Emori’s thigh. “What is your experience with violence?”

“Well, I was born an outcast, because of my hand.” Emori held up her gloved hand in explanation. “So I’ve been hurt a lot. Beaten. Cut. Knocked out. Been through the end of the world, a couple times over. Just last week, I was nearly burned at the pyre. Got a staff to the stomach for speaking out against the Primes.”

Margot was still for a second. She hesitated, taken aback by just how violent Emori’s life had been. She blinked a few times before speaking again. “We’ll make sure to take a look and make sure that didn’t seriously hurt you or baby.”

“My doctor friend gave me the all clear already, but it can’t hurt to check again.”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Now, what about domestic violence? Has Murphy ever hit you?”

Emori shook her head quickly. “No, nothing like that. Besides, I wear a knife holster on my thigh, _and_ he’s a lousy fighter. I’d like to see him try.”

“Very well.” Margot forced another smile, but Emori could tell she was creeped out by her over-familiarity with weapons. “How’s your family history? Any health issues you know about?”

“All I know from my side is my mutation.” It was uncomfortable to mention, but Emori figured she wasn’t in danger here. “My parents abandoned me at birth. There’s nothing I can think of from John’s, but he might know more.”

As if he could sense they were talking about him, John chose that moment to knock at the door. Margot left Emori to open it for him.

The second Emori saw John, a wave of relief rushed over her. She hated how needy she was being, but his presence soothed her nerves where pastel wall coverings could not.

He crossed over to where she sat on the cot, and she tilted her chin up so he could land a soft kiss to her lips.

“Sorry, am I late?” John rubbed the back of his neck.

“Nonsense,” Margot said with a tsk. “You’re just in time. I was just asking Emori about any health problems that might run in the family. Can you think of anything like that?”

He pulled up a chair to sit next to Emori’s cot and told Margot everything he knew.

They answered a few more questions, then Margot took Emori’s blood pressure along with blood and urine samples. She asked her to lie down on the cot and lift her shirts above her belly.

“This will feel cold,” Margot told her, before spreading a gel over her lower abdomen. And she was right. The gel _was_ cold. “Are you ready to hear baby’s heartbeat?”

“You can _do_ that?!” Emori was astounded. She didn’t even know it _had_ a heartbeat yet.

“Absolutely, dear. It might take a minute, but I’ll find it in there.” She flashed a wink.

John took Emori’s hand from where he sat to her left and pressed a kiss to her glove. “We’re ready.” She squeezed his hand in hers. Emori needed to ground herself. It was like she was floating, somewhere outside her body but not really. None of this felt real.

Margot ran a wand over her belly, trying in different locations. Emori just looked into John’s eyes and squeezed harder. The anticipation was killing her. The wand moved to the lower right side of her belly, and then she could hear it: a distinct clop-clop sound, like hoofbeats on packed dirt.

John’s jaw hung slack for a second. “Is that-”

“Yes,” Margot confirmed. “That’s your baby.”

“Oh my god, there it is.” Emori couldn’t believe it. It was real. It was there. Before, her baby was an abstract concept, like something that was happening someday. Hearing the heartbeat made it feel so much more real. She _made_ that. She was making a little person. Emori was tearing up again, but this time she didn’t even hate herself for it.

John rose up and cupped her face with his free hand. He hovered over her, just inches from her face. “We’re having a _baby_ , Mori. Oh my god, we’re having a baby.”

She laughed through the tears. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!”

He kissed her, then, and Emori melted into the feeling. She was absolutely surrounded with love. John loved her so much, and _god_ , she loved him too. Their baby’s heartbeat sounded through the room and every fiber of her being. Emori was pretty sure she already loved it. How could she have ever doubted that she’d be able to love her baby, when she was already bursting with love?

John pulled off of her, and now he was crying too. The sight of it made her laugh: the cathartic half-joy, half-nerves kind. He grinned back at her and wiped the tears from below her eyes.

“Baby’s heartbeat is sounding beautiful, dears. Exactly like it’s meant to.” Margot pulled the wand from Emori’s belly, and she immediately felt the loss. It was far too quiet in the room without the reassuring clopping of her baby’s heartbeat.

Margot wiped the gel off Emori and asked her to sit up. “Everything looks good so far. You’ve made it to week thirteen, which gives me great hope that this will be a healthy pregnancy and a healthy baby.”

Emori let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. It was weird, with how not long before she had never imagined having a baby except in passing. But now—if anything happened, she knew it would tear her apart.

Margot walked them through what they needed to do next, what the entire process of pregnancy, labor and birth, and early childhood would be like. It was a lot of information all at once, and Emori hoped she’d remember even a tenth of it.

John brought up their concerns about taking care of the baby once it was born, since neither of them had experience with childcare. Margot said she would set up meetings with other parents—the concept of being a parent herself was still foreign to Emori—and ones with babies so they could practice on the real thing.

It still felt so foreign. Emori was having a baby. She was having a baby with John. It was terrifying and exciting and all around kind of amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies!
> 
> This chapter just makes me so happy and soft inside. It was a lot of fun to write and I hope it makes you feel good too! Please let me know what you think. School starts again soon for me and I'm not ready to let go of break. For one of my classes I have to do a four hour 'get to know you' survey. That's seriously just a 'get to know you' thing, not even actual learning. So _that_ bodes well for the semester I have ahead of me. Distract me from my responsibilities with fanfic, please!
> 
> -Mobi <3


	10. Flesh and Blood

After the appointment with Margot, Emori and John went straight back to the palace. They had the rest of the afternoon to themselves, and they planned on taking full advantage of their time off. They weren’t typically the kind of couple to hold hands while walking through the city, but today they were. It was a happy day, and they were enjoying the peace of it.

The second they got into their room, it was like a switch got flipped and the only thing Emori could think about was John. She pressed him against the closing door. She turned the lock and went straight for his jacket, ripping it off of him and throwing it to the floor. His shirt followed soon after, and she nipped at his collarbone before tilting her head up to claim his lips. She kissed him deeply, grinding herself against his thigh. She just couldn’t help herself. The start of Emori’s second trimester had jumpstarted her sex drive, and she needed him desperately.

John pressed back against her, as hungry for her as she was for him. He walked her across the room and she spun them around to push him down onto the bed. He fell obediently to his back and looked up at her like she was divine. His mouth fell open as his eyes flitted down to her lips. He looked absolutely hypnotized. Emori didn’t know how she had gotten so lucky. It was written all over his face: John loved her like no one else ever could.

She climbed on after him to straddle his hips. He pulled her down by the fabric of her shirt, and she succumbed, leaning down to kiss him messily. It was all heat, love and lust for him wrapped into one inferno of wanting. She ground down on him, delighted at the way his breath shuddered and his hips bucked up from under her.

“Impatient already?” she teased him. “Just can’t get enough?”

“Never.” His eyes looked sharp and steady. _Oh. He was serious._ John flipped them around so he was straddling her hips. He stared into her eyes, unmoving and hovering an inch over her.

It only took about ten seconds before she broke. “Just touch me already, John.”

He smiled. “Alright, then.” He leaned down to the side of her head and pressed a kiss just behind her ear. “Just relax. My queen deserves a little worshipping today, yeah?”

His words went straight to her core. Emori groaned. “Yeah, okay, I can’t argue with that.”

John kissed her earlobe and ran a trail down her jaw. Every kiss set a little fire in her. He moved down her neck to her sternum, until her shirts got in his way and he couldn’t go any lower. His fingers slid to the bottom hem, and he pulled the shirts up slowly, running his hands up her sides and making her shiver. Where his kisses were fire, this was ice, and together it made Emori feel like she was floating. She arched her back to help him drag the fabric up her back, and curled her chest forward so he could pull it over her head.

Once her shirts were off, John leaned back in to kiss her. She chased his lips as he pulled off, but he only smiled at her neediness and moved lower. He kissed the line between her breasts, rubbing his hands on the sensitive skin at her waist.

He moved to circle her nipple with his tongue, but she stopped him. “Ow, no, not there, John. Sore.”

“Right, sorry, I forgot.”

He shifted his hips lower down on her body and pressed kisses all over the gentle swell of her belly. He looked up at her, reverent. “My god, you are so beautiful.”

Seeing John down there, kissing over the life that they had created together, it flooded her entire body with warmth. Emori needed him badly. She needed him _now._

“John…” She moaned, breathy, pressing his head down with a hand, down to the buckle of her pants.

“Who’s the impatient one now?” He held her hips down and nosed the waistline of her pants, back and forth on the sensitive skin there.

“Shut up, John.” She wiggled her hips despite his hold on her, and he laughed at her impatience.

He popped the buckle and dragged the zipper down. It took all her concentration to stay still and not buck her hips up into him. Emori ached for him, needed his friction all over her. She sucked in deep breaths to steady herself.

John pulled her pants and panties off at once, following their path with kisses down one leg to the knee. He spread her legs and moved in between them, and Emori groaned at the feeling of cool air on the damp skin of her most delicate parts. She was already soaked, and he had barely touched her.

His hands moved to push her thighs up and give himself better access. She opened for him gratefully. His mouth trailed up her thigh, nearly to where she craved him most, but he pulled back to give the other the same treatment. She screwed her eyes shut and tried to forget about how crazy he made her and how much she wanted his ravenous tongue deep inside her.

Finally, he reached the apex of her thighs. John’s warm breath covered her, and her pussy clenched around nothing. He dropped a quick kiss there, then moved to nose the outer folds of her labia. He licked up her folds to her clit and lapped at it with his tongue. He grabbed it gently between his teeth and suctioned it into his mouth.

It was fervid, but he made her keen for him. “ _Jok_ , yes, John! Just like that.”

He sucked at her like she was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. All her nerves stood on end. She loved him like this, sucking her clit like he was starving for her. He licked a strip back down to her entrance and circled it with his tongue.

She threw her head back into the mattress, groaning her impatience.

His thumbs worked at her thighs, rubbing in reassurance. “It’s okay, I know what you need.”

Emori jerked her hips up into him, and he closed his mouth over her. He sucked at her and licked her in a frenzy, like he was trying to devour her. She laced a hand in his hair and pulled his face harder against her. John moaned and sucked at her even harder. Her free hand fisted in the sheets, trying to ground herself against the torrent of feeling that flowed through her and threatened to rip her from where she lay.

He licked a line from her entrance to her clit and drew his tongue in a harsh circle there as his beard scratched against her pussy. Emori was careening over the edge, breath coming out in labored pants. His tongue snaked back down and inside her and she came around it, squeezing rhythmically and pulling it into her.

He didn’t let her come down from her high. John dragged two fingers up and down her slit, soaking them in her own juices. He pulled his tongue out of her and replaced it with his fingers, curling them into her. They searched and pressed for the spot she liked best, and she bucked up into him when they found it. She was still riding the wave of her first climax, and he was already building her back up there.

John licked around the gentle pull of her muscles where his fingers were entering her. He returned his mouth to her clit and caressed it with his tongue, still thrusting his fingers up into her and pressing at the spot she loved. The stimulation was too much. Just enough.

Emori drew out a moan, pushing his head to her again. He hummed back into her, and it vibrated through her body. That pushed her over the edge again. This time she was loud when she came. Euphoria pounded in her and she couldn’t contain it anymore. The feeling exploded out of her and she cried out with it, loudly enough to be closer to a yell.

John pulled his fingers out of her as she came down. He trailed kisses up from her clit to pause at her belly, kissing it again and again.

“I love you, baby,” he whispered to her belly, and pressed a final kiss below her belly button. She hid her smile at the sweet gesture. It felt weird to be involving the baby in sex, but it was a part of both of them, part of what had brought them back together. She loved both of them so much.

He crawled back up her body, pressing kisses all the way. Emori pulled him to her and leaned up to meet him in the middle, desperate to have John’s mouth on hers again and taste herself on his tongue.

He was even better than she remembered. She lost herself in the heat of him, the way he devoured her and how he somehow poured every single emotion he had for her into a single kiss. He dominated her with his tongue, tasting her everywhere. Usually she would battle him for power, but this time she gave herself over to him and let him show her exactly what he wanted.

She had lost all sense of herself when she felt the line of his clothed hardness against her. Her eyes shot open and she whined into his mouth. “Fuck me, John,” she pleaded. “Please, I need it.”

“Of course, Emori. Whatever you want.” _As if he didn’t want it, too._ He pulled off of her and shoved his underwear down together with his pants. She perched on her elbows to watch him, enjoying the way his abs flexed with the movements.

After kicking his clothes off his ankles, he climbed back on top of her. Finally bare for her. She lay back down and spread her legs for him to nestle in between. He dragged his cock up and down the slick at her folds. She tilted her chin up to feel his mouth on hers again. He kissed her lovingly and lined himself at her entrance.

A second later John was pushing inside and thrusting his tongue into her mouth in the same moment. She swallowed his moans and he swallowed hers. He pressed into her in a single, frustratingly languid, motion. She bit his lower lip and bucked against him, begged him to move inside her.

Instead, he brought his hand back to her leg and dragged it up to his shoulder. The new angle afforded them an even deeper fit, and Emori groaned at the feel of it. He filled her so well.

She bucked her hips again, and this time he took the hint. He pulled out of her, almost all the way, and drove back inside again. He did it again and again, each time a bit faster than the last, a bit harder. Until they couldn’t keep it up anymore and the thrusts turned short and deep. She tried to meet him thrust for thrust, but she was so far gone it was hard to keep up with his movements.

He mouthed at the juncture of her neck, licking and sucking the tender skin there. She delighted in the feel of him above her, inside her, all over her. John reached a hand under Emori, to the curve of her ass, and helped her to meet his thrusts. He was building her up all over again, and she loved every second of it.

His hips began to shudder, and she knew he was close. “I love the way you come for me,” he told her, voice hoarse from exertion. “Can you do that?” She nodded frantically, and he kissed her.

It was as if all she was waiting for was his permission. A couple thrusts later, Emori came all over his cock, pulsing with the power of her orgasm. That must have pushed him over the edge along with her, because then John was spilling inside her and moaning into her mouth. His hips absentmindedly jerked into her a few more times, riding out his high.

He pulled out of her, lowered her leg back to the bed, and collapsed at her side. She was boneless, floating. She cuddled into his arm, careful to not touch him where his wounds were healing.

“I love you, John.”

He yawned. “Love you too, Mori.”

She pressed a kiss to his shoulder and drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

* * *

Emori ballooned during her second trimester. What had begun as a barely-there bump had become a big ball protruding from her stomach. It multiplied in size practically overnight, a beacon screaming _Hey, I’m pregnant!_ for anyone who got near. Not that people dared to get too near, at least with wandering hands. Emori had mastered her _get the hell away from me_ glares long before Murphy had met her, and they were coming in handy now.

Her back ached and she complained of the stretching of her skin as it expanded to fit her larger body. She soon grew out of her own clothes and took to borrowing Murphy’s. He’d be okay with it—really, he would—but he didn’t have much to start with. Plus, she looked kind of ridiculous. Not that he’d tell her that. As much as he usually gave her shit, she was a little too sensitive now for it to be funny.

They were visiting their new parent friends Laura and Amelia, who their midwife had set them up with. Murphy made dinner and brought it along to share with the couple, then he and Emori would help them take care of their four-month-old son Will and learn as much from them as possible. They were in way over their heads with the prospect of parenting, but the more they learned the better they felt.

Laura opened the door for them when they knocked. She had Will strapped to her chest, and he was sleeping. “Emori, sweetie…” She searched for the right words, then apparently gave up. “You look a mess. Come on, you need new clothes.”

Murphy cleared his throat, biting back an _I told you so_ that would definitely not be appreciated.

Laura led them to the bedroom and opened a wardrobe that was pressed against the wall. “I still have my maternity clothes from my pregnancy. You could use them more than I can!” She laughed.

“Thank you Laura, you’re too kind,” Emori said.

Murphy was glad Laura was facing away from them, so she didn’t see the way Emori’s face fell when she saw the clothes in question. Sanctumites wore a lot of pastels, and apparently the color palette for their maternity attire was especially soft. Thankfully Emori schooled her expression quickly and smiled when Laura pulled the garments from the wardrobe and turned around to lay them on the bed.

“Pick something out and put it on, okay, Emori? And Murphy, come help set up for dinner.” Laura left the two of them alone in the room.

Emori scowled at the clothes laid out on the bed.

“It’s time for this, and you know it.”

She turned her scowl to him. Murphy rolled his eyes. He shrugged off his jacket and dropped it on the bed with the maternity clothes. He patted her shoulder reassuringly and left the room, closing the door behind him.

He was in the kitchen delighting Laura and her wife Amelia with an account of Monty’s algae soup when the bedroom door opened and Emori walked out. She was clad in a light pink dress cinched just under her breasts and falling down over her baby bump and nearly to her feet. She had put his black jacket overtop of the dress, but nonetheless she looked so much more delicate than usual.

“See?” Laura said. “You look so much better. I do love being right.”

“ _Laura_ ,” Amelia admonished. “Emori, don’t mind her. The clothes are yours now, and they’ll come in handy especially during the third trimester. But you look great either way.”

“Thanks.” Emori fidgeted with the fabric at her thigh, but joined them for dinner despite her apparent discomfort.

As time went on, Emori became more comfortable in her new wardrobe. Murphy helped in every way he could—he even started wearing Sanctum clothes himself sometimes so she wouldn’t feel alone in it—but he never did get that jacket back until the weather was too hot to wear it anyway.

***

It was time for Emori’s 20 week appointment with the midwife, and Murphy was buzzing with excitement over it. Margot had told them she’d perform the anatomy scan to make sure everything looked good, meaning they would finally get to see their baby.

This time, for the third appointment, they walked to the apartment together. Murphy went by the machine shop earlier than was strictly necessary. He picked up basically everything they had in there to play with it while he waited for Emori to be finished with her work. Raven accused him of being a toddler, and, well, yeah. He was destined to be a great father.

Murphy’s heart hammered in his chest as Margot smeared the gel over Emori’s belly and prepared for the ultrasound. Emori looked perfectly calm—bored, even—but it was obvious that behind the ruse she was nervous too.

They heard the heartbeat again, and it was just as perfect as before. It would take a long time before Murphy got tired of that sound. Maybe it would never happen. Margot was satisfied with the sound of things and moved onto the imaging.

This is the part Emori was most nervous for. With the anatomy scan, they’d be able to see the baby. So many things could be wrong, Murphy couldn’t keep them straight in his head. But he knew Emori was only looking for one thing: any abnormality that could mark their baby _frikdreina_. Himself, he was just concerned with things that could mark their baby, or Emori, for dead.

An image popped up on the screen, and they both held their breath.

“That’s your baby,” Margot said, as if they didn’t already know.

“It’s so ugly!” Emori laughed through tears of happiness.

“Yeah, it looks like a little alien. Emori, we’re having a little baby alien!”

Margot smiled. “That’s to be expected, dear. We’re only halfway there, baby’s not done developing yet.”

Murphy studied the scan, trying to pick up information from it. But it didn’t look like much, not really. Just an alien blob on a black background. He cleared his throat. “Does it look healthy?”

“Very much so. A little on the small side, but it’s nothing to be alarmed over. Things like this often flip-flop several times throughout the pregnancy.”

“And does it have… a deformity?” Emori lifted her badass hand.

“Not that I can see, sweetheart. But that doesn’t mean she won’t have one, I just don’t know yet.”

“She?”

“Oh, did you not want to know the sex? I apologize—sometimes I forget you’re not from here and I don’t know your ways.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Emori reassured her. “We’re having a daughter…” She turned to Murphy, tentative smile on her face.

Murphy returned her smile and pressed a kiss to her temple. “She’s gonna be just like her _nomon_.” Or at least they’d better hope so. _If she turned out like Murphy, they’d need to follow her around Sanctum with a fire extinguisher._

Margot offered them a paper copy of the ultrasound image, and Murphy jumped at the chance. It made the perfect addition to his collection of family photos. He and Emori tacked them all up in their bedroom, above their bed. It was starting to become a home.

***

It was maybe a month after the anatomy scan that Murphy felt his daughter kick for the first time. It was the middle of the night, and he and Emori were sleeping in bed, facing each other on their sides. He was roused from his sleep by Emori grabbing his hand and pressing it down on her belly.

“She’s kicking again,” Emori said, voice heavy with sleep. “Hard. You might be able to feel it this time.” She kept her hand there, covering his, gaze falling to her belly.

Murphy applied a little pressure with his hand. “Come on, little one. Kick for Dad.” He waited silently, breath caught in his throat. _Come on, baby, please don’t be shy._

And then he felt it, a little jab square on his palm. Murphy’s jaw fell open in awe. He couldn’t mistake it for anything else. His heart swelled with pride. That was _his_ baby, his and Emori’s, that she was growing so perfectly. The baby was only the size of produce, but she was already so powerful. She was gonna be a force to be reckoned with.

“There she is, our little alien baby.”

Emori rolled her eyes at that, it was obvious even in the dark. “You’re gonna have to stop calling her that, John.”

“As soon as we decide on a name. Then I’ll have something else to call her.”

The baby didn’t kick again that night, but Murphy kept his hand on Emori’s belly as they fell back to sleep, just in case.

* * *

Emori went into labor on a sweltering Sunday afternoon in Sanctum. She was eating lunch with Raven under an overhang outside the machine shop when she felt a strong cramping in her belly. It was only a week until her due date, but she ignored it at first. Emori had gotten Braxton Hicks contractions before—all she needed to do was walk around and they would go away.

This time, though, the contractions didn’t go away. They came infrequently, but they returned time and time again, all afternoon, closer and closer together, whether she was standing or sitting.

“Raven?” she said, pointing a finger gun at her friend. “I’m not gonna be able to work for awhile. I’m in labor.”

“Excuse me, what?” Raven shot over to her, reaching to support her even though she was standing just fine on her own.

“We knew this would happen sooner or later, Rey. I’m fine. Could you go let John know what’s happening? I’m gonna go see the midwife.”

The labor lasted for sixteen hours, all together. It was the single most painful experience of Emori’s life, which was saying a lot. John was there all the way, cracking stupid jokes that half distracted her, half made her want to rip his throat out. She pushed for what felt like hours, though it was more likely only a handful of minutes. Her vaginal wall tore and she needed a stitch to put it back together. Emori cried big blotchy tears and screamed every curse she’d ever heard.

At the end of it, though, it was easy to see why some women chose to go through it time and time again. Margot placed her baby daughter in her arms, and all the pain melted away. John cut the umbilical cord with tears in his eyes and settled in next to her. Emori fed their daughter for the first time, and already she was a quick learner. Emori smiled down at her. _Just like her parents_.

They named her Iko. She was born with blue eyes and a tuft of dark hair on her head. Her blood was red and she had ten fingers and ten toes, all average sized. On her left hand, some of the fingers were webbed together in a permanent vulcan salute. John was holding Iko to his bare chest when Emori saw it. She panicked, breath caught in her throat as she pointed to the deformity.

John took the tiny hand in his and kissed Iko’s fingers. “She’s safe here,” he assured her. “She’s safe, she’s okay. You’re okay, Emori.”

She laid her head on his shoulder. “I know, John.” She sighed. “But I’m still scared.”

“Me too. They say that’s normal. That it means we’re parents.”

“Parents…” She shook her head minutely. “Now there’s something I never would have expected.”

“Maybe not, no. But I’m glad we’re here. She’s perfect. I can’t imagine our life without her.”

“Neither can I.” Emori stroked Iko’s back. “She just got here, and already she’s the most important thing in my life.”

“Yeah. She makes me want to be better. Just like you.” He pressed a kiss to Emori’s sweaty forehead.

“So, John.” She was still staring down at Iko. “When are you planning on making an honest woman of me?”

He chuckled. “What century are you even from?”

“I’m being serious, John. When are we going to get married?”

“Whenever you want. Although if we play it right, I think we can pretty much get out of planning anything we don’t want to.”

Emori laughed. “That’s half the reason I love you, you know.”

“Is that so?” She could feel him peering down at her. “And what’s the other half?”

“Her.”

“I see that boding well for me, long term,” he deadpanned, and she giggled.

Emori was completely fatigued from what her body had been through. She nestled further into John’s side and let her eyes droop closed.

* * *

The three of them lay together for a long time, basking in the light of the rising suns, Murphy gazing down at their daughter in his arms and Emori sleeping beside him. That was how Raven found them, when she came to check on her friends. Murphy met her eyes from across the room with a peaceful smile. She offered him a salute and retreated from the room. Murphy dropped a kiss to Iko’s forehead and another to Emori’s temple. _Yeah, he was one lucky bastard._

_fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello beautiful people!
> 
> So there you have it: Revive. I had so many feels running through my head as I typed out the final _fin_ , guys. So. Many. Feels. There will be an epilogue tomorrow, but this is it for the story!
> 
> What feels are you feeling right now? What do you want to see in the epilogue? I've already written it, but as some of you may know, it is subject to change if I vibe with your suggestions! So please, let me know.
> 
> -Mobi <3


	11. Epilogue

Emori and John got married on a frigid winter day, six months after Iko was born. The morning of the wedding, Emori woke up to a Sanctum covered in a blanket of fresh white snow.

She sat up in bed to breastfeed. Iko was an easygoing baby, mostly, but she couldn’t bear to spend the night apart from her parents. Even in a crib right next to their bed. Ultimately, they had given up and sectioned off an area in between them for her to sleep.

John was still sleeping when Iko was finished with breakfast. Emori leaned over to wake him up with a kiss to the forehead. “It’s a beautiful day for a wedding, John. That is, if you still want to marry me?”

His eyes fluttered open and he groaned into the pillow. Never a morning person, even on his wedding day. “Of course I do, Mori.” The whole runaway bride thing? Never really happens in real life the way it does in the movies.”

“I know, just making sure. I want today to go well.”

“Hey, as long as no one dies or is seriously injured it’s a massive success in my book.”

***

Later in the morning, Emori was back in Kaylee’s old dressing room getting ready for the wedding. Raven was pacing through the room with Iko in her arms as Echo fastened Emori’s dress at her side.

It was a simple wrap dress, soft and bright white with long sleeves and a skirt that fluffed out a little at the waist and ended just shy of the floor. Emori had picked it out with Raven from Sanctum’s stash of wedding attire, relieved to find something that fit and felt right. The easy access for when she needed to feed Iko was an unexpected bonus, and she silently thanked whoever made the dress for suiting her needs so perfectly.

None of them quite knew what to do with Emori’s hair, though.

“Leave it down,” she said. “That was Harper’s job. It doesn’t feel right to have anyone else do it.”

Echo rubbed her shoulder. “I miss her too. Especially today. She would have loved this.”

Raven crossed over to them. “Harper would be so proud of you, Emori. It’s too bad she didn’t live to see you get your shit together.”

Tears formed in her eyes. “Stop it, you guys, you’re gonna make me cry!”

“Serves you right, you’ve gone soft,” Raven teased.

“Not soft enough to be scared of you, though.” Emori shot her a pointed look. “Besides, I think I get a pass. It’s my wedding day, I get to be emotional!”

***

John was right, the wedding _was_ a massive success. Sanctum had really come together for the event. The palace hall was decorated and filled with people, most of whom Emori didn’t even know. They had set chairs in rows, with an aisle running down the middle.

Raven walked out in front of her, holding Iko and spreading flower petals on the ground. Everyone stood and turned to look when Emori walked into the room. It was unnerving to be the center of attention like that, but they were all there to celebrate her and John so she was happy for it. He was standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for her and grinning like an idiot. She couldn’t be quite sure, but she thought his eyes grew misty when he first saw her.

Iko’s babbling rang out from the front row as Emori walked down the aisle and found her spot next to John at the front. Everyone sat down except for them and Bellamy, who stood between them and faced the audience. Pretty much immediately after they had announced they were going to have a wedding, Bellamy offered to officiate. He was one of their closest friends and a member of their found family, so it was easy to say yes.

The wedding ceremony was short. Bellamy said a few words, they exchanged traditional vows, and then it was time for the rings. John slipped a thin chain over her head, a shiny metal ring hanging from it and settling against her chest. Emori’s hand quivered as she took John’s ring and placed it on his finger. It fit perfectly and suited him perfectly, like it had always been a part of him. Raven had done an amazing job making both of the rings.

They ate dinner in the hall. There weren’t enough tables for everyone, so a lot of the guests ate off their laps. No one seemed to care, though. Drinks were flowing and soon people were pushing their chairs off to the side or the room to clear a dance floor.

Emori and John had their first dance in front of everyone, and they still had no idea what they were doing. At first they swayed, but that got old fast, so they ended up embarrassing themselves and each other with outrageous dance moves. They probably looked ridiculous, but it was also incredibly fun so Emori didn’t really care.

Their guests joined them on the dance floor, and they were dragged into the thick of it. Emori danced with more people than she could count. First was Raven, who had given Iko over to Jordan. He was using the baby as his own personal wingwoman, but he really had no game. Even with the baby, he still couldn’t get a girl.

Some time later, Emori danced with Echo, who was adamant in her attempt to be completely over Bellamy. She had broken up with him a month before, and even though she was the one who ended things it hit her hard. Echo needed to take her own path, to heal from her past and not be anyone’s second choice. But it didn’t help that Bellamy was on the other side of the room gazing into Clarke’s eyes and brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. Emori couldn’t imagine it would be long until the two of them got together for real. She hurt for Echo, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t see this coming.

Emori made a point to seek out Madi. Things had been rough for her in Sanctum, especially as the only kid her age who was neither Sanctumite nor Wonkru, and her kill count was _way_ higher than any of the others. She spent a lot of her time with the adults, and Emori loved her like anyone else in the family. Madi was already as tall as Emori was, and still growing. It was getting harder and harder for John to justify calling her a Hobbit, but the nickname stuck nonetheless.

The one person Emori didn’t get to dance with was John. They were both so busy with their guests that they hardly saw each other for hours. So when they both had a second to themselves, Emori took him by the hand and led him outside into the snow. The wintry air felt like pinpricks to her skin, but it was somehow better than the heat inside the palace hall.

“What are we doing?” John asked her, cocking an eyebrow.

She shrugged. “Whatever the hell we want.”

 _Whatever the hell they wanted_ turned out to be making out against the side of the building until the cold got to be too much and they had to run back inside, laughing all the way. John grabbed Iko from Bellamy and led Emori out on the dance floor.

They danced together in the rainbow light of the palace hall. It was terrible and messy and beautiful and Emori’s feet hurt. She didn’t know what the future held for them, but in that moment, she couldn’t imagine it would be bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> Ending this is so bittersweet. Writing this has been such a journey, and one I wouldn't have thought possible not too long ago. For so long, I was consumed with fear about writing and posting fanfic. That's why I've had this account since 2014 but only posted three short fics before (the longest was 3000 words). So Revive, for me, is a testament to what I'm capable of: facing my anxieties and creating exactly what I want to create. Coming into this, I knew it wouldn't be everyone's cup of tea. A canon compliant pregnancy memori fic may sound like a dream to me, but it's a bit of a niche market. And that's okay! That's some of the beauty of fanfic, it doesn't have to be a crowd-pleaser. Thank you so much for taking this journey with me and subjecting yourselves to all my feels and headcanons and idiom-titled chapters and the cliché wedding epilogue (no regrets). Reading your comments has been a highlight of my day for ten days straight now and it warms my heart to hear when you're enjoying something.
> 
> Wow I am so corny right now. That's just who I am though ;) If you made it this far, I have to assume you liked this fic at least a little bit. So please, even if you're reading this years in the future and think it would be weird (it's not!), please send me a comment or smash that kudos button or hit me up on tumblr. Here's the link to that! No matter where my life goes, I'll never be anything but overjoyed to hear that someone enjoyed something I poured a little piece of my heart into.
> 
> Thank you again for reading. I'm honored to be among so many beautiful and lovely people.  
> -Mobi <3


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